


Growing Pains

by Transformersfan123



Series: Side Effects [2]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 08:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13361064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Transformersfan123/pseuds/Transformersfan123
Summary: Sequel to Side Effects. The time when Silverstreak got along with Optimus was long ago. Nobody seems to have enough time for him anymore. Even Bee's growing distant. When Silverstreak's life on Earth is bleaker than it has ever been, something happens that throws him into another adventure. It will further change him, and the way mechs view him forever.





	1. Tension

Silverstreak leaned against a tree, his pure blue eyes glittering in amusement as he watched Mikaela and Leo chase their naked three year old son around. A soft chuckle escaped him when the boy, named Joseph, ran squealing into his arms. Mikaela and Leo stopped in front of them panting, and the former glared vehemently.

"Why does he run to you?" Mikaela asked finally, straightening up with her hands on her hips.

"Because I don't threaten him with baths," Silverstreak replied with a smile.

Mikaela scowled and Leo laughed. It had been a little under five years since he had returned to Earth to find her married off to his best friend. The blow was greatly lessened by the fact that he was no longer human, but it had still stung bitterly for a while.

"Sam, you're a bad influence for Joseph!" Mikaela finally growled, her eyes flashing.

"Then I've accomplished my goal," Silverstreak replied with a lopsided grin. "And don't call me by my Earth name."

The silver boy hated using his Earth name. After his parents had disowned him, he had requested that everybody call him by his Cybertronian name. There was a period of grumbling, but everybody eventually consented to it. Most of the new recruits didn't even know who Samuel James Witwicky was; they only knew Silverstreak, the frighteningly human looking transformer who could do amazing things. They didn't like him very much and were terrified every time they came into contact with him, skittering away as fast as they were able.

Though that hurt the youngling, he wasn't too offended; or at least, he didn't show it. He knew that they were leery of all the Autobots, all except the older ones who had worked with them for years. Any time the whispered comments and frightened looks _did_ hurt him to the point of showing it—in rather violent ways—his guardian was there to offer him comfort and reassuring words.

Mikaela was different than the other humans, though. She wasn't friendly and understanding like William and Robert were. Not anymore. But, then again, she wasn't frightened of him like the rookie troops were. Her comments were never censored or whispered, either; they were loud, personal, and cruel in the way that only an ex-friend could make them. And judging by the spark in her chocolate eyes, he was about to be hurt again.

"Oh, that's right," she said coldly. "I forgot that you're too much of a freak to use an Earth name."

Silverstreak tried to ignore the spike of pain that made his energon run cold. He tried to push down the anger that was triggered from the hurt. He tried to keep the electricity from snapping at his fingers. He tried to stop the deep growl that ground out of his throat. He tried all these things, but failed at every one of them.

Before he could step forward, Leo was in between them. "She didn't mean it, Silverstreak!" he cried, holding his hands out in a pleading gesture.

Calm leaked through him, but disappeared with three words from Mikaela: "Yes I did."

Silverstreak saw red and lunged, shoving Leo away.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Silverstreak sat with his arms crossed, anger practically radiating from him. Optimus sat at his desk, his fingers twined together as he stared intently at the youngling boy in front of him. The stare was rather nerve racking, Silverstreak thought as he tensed even more, as it seemed to look through his very spark. He'd had many mechs tell him that about Optimus' gaze. The only difference there was between Optimus' gaze on him and on them was that with them the Autobot leader was right when searching their intentions; with him, Optimus was almost always wrong. And he never listened to realize why.

The Autobot leader shifted and sat back. "How many times must I tell you that you need to control your temper?" he finally asked with exasperation in his voice.

"It's not my fault," the youngling said without emotion, knowing he wouldn't be believed again. "Besides, she deserved it."

"You broke her arm, cracked three of her ribs, and dislocated her shoulder," Optimus said in a low voice; controlled anger that made the youngling's spark pulse faster at the very sound.

Silverstreak couldn't stop the small smile that curled his lips at the thought. "Yes. Yes I did."

"That's nothing to smile about!" Optimus growled angrily, his optics flaming. "You could have killed her! You don't seem to realize you're so much stronger than any humans!"

"I realize it," Silverstreak growled, his optics flicking up to glance at the imposing Prime. " _She_ doesn't, though."

"It's not her responsibility to control _your_ temper," Optimus scolded.

"You won't believe me when I tell you I've tried," Silverstreak muttered dully.

"Try harder," Optimus said sternly. "You can't just keep going around hurting humans. It gives a bad impression of us."

"Of _us?_ " Silverstreak asked in shock. "Really? Since when have _you_ gotten involved in anything that happens to me? The only time you care is when I hurt somebody. You know what? Frag off. I don't need you to tell me what I should and shouldn't do when you don't even give me a chance."

Silverstreak leaped from the desk to the floor, the door opening for him as he shocked it. He walked through the halls miserably, searching for somebody, _anybody_ to talk to. He was lucky. He ran into First Aid.

"Hey Aid," he said darkly.

"Not now, Silverstreak. I'm busy."

That hurt. So it was going to be one of the days when nobody wanted anything to do with him. Tears of anger threatened to escape, but he forced them down and headed to his room. The door opened and he was even more disappointed to see that Bumblebee was nowhere to be found. Again. He leaped onto the berth and flopped down, curling up beneath his cloak. At least he could sleep it off.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A sharp poke to his side woke him. He groaned and forced his eyes open to see yellow. Bumblebee was kneeling by the berth, peering at him with concerned optics. Silverstreak glared at him then turned away, intent on ignoring the big yellow mech.

"Sam," he crooned softly. "Don't be angry with Optimus. He means well."

"Yeah. That's why he takes a stab at my spark every time I talk to him. Might I just say he has brilliant aim," Silverstreak muttered bitterly.

"Talk to him, Sam. Tell him how you feel. Tell him why you do these things."

"He doesn't listen, Bee."

"Ask him to," Bumblebee said sternly. "And he will listen. I promise he will. And if you don't, I'll talk to him for you, and you don't want me to do that. He doesn't take well to his friends not trusting him."

"Gee whiz, why in the Pit wouldn't I trust him?"

Bumblebee sighed and scooped his charge up, cradling him tenderly against his chest. The yellow mech wished the boy wasn't so hot-tempered sometimes. It made things so much more difficult than they needed to be. Any mech who had been under Optimus' command would know they could go and tell him what was on their sparks. Silverstreak was one of the stubborn mechs that would hold it in until something went bad. Bumblebee didn't want something to go bad. It didn't end very well for the stubborn mech most of the time.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Silverstreak avoided Optimus and Mikaela for days, too angry to even be near them. Leo was alright and so was Joseph, but he knew Mikaela would just get him in trouble again. He hated it. He had successfully avoided her yet again when a deep voice spoke behind him.

"Ah, Silverstreak, there you are. Please, come here."

Silverstreak turned and didn't bother hiding his displeasure, but he obeyed and stood in the lowered hand. The mech carefully lifted him up and the youngling leapt onto the broad shoulder. He sat there and refused to look at Optimus as the mech started walking again. There was an icy silence for a while, broken by a sigh from Optimus.

"Silverstreak, I want only the best for you, but you continuously disobey my orders. Whenever you can, it seems."

Silverstreak scowled and spun to face the big mech, feeling his anger rise once again. "If you wanted what's best for me, you'd listen to what I'm trying to tell you! But you don't. You haven't since I became this, this FREAK!"

"Silverstreak, listen to me!"

"No, _you_ listen!"

"I am Prime. You listen to me first," Optimus said sternly.

"Oh, now you're pulling rank on me?!"

"You've left me no choice. I need you to listen, not talk right now. I will give you a chance to speak if you only let me talk first."

Silverstreak's anger exploded and the next thing he knew, Optimus was on the ground, spasming as electricity sparked through him. Guilt and shame immediately rushed through Silverstreak, along with an undertone of fear. He connected to his comm. link and contacted Ratchet and First Aid, telling them to hurry, then ran out of the room and down the hall. He nearly ran into Kup and skidded around him, making the mech start.

"Silverstreak?" he asked, sounding confused and surprised.

The youngling rushed into the rec room, where many of the mechs were, and leaped up onto a table where Perceptor was, huddling against the scientist.

"Silverstreak!" Perceptor exclaimed, though he didn't sound angry. "What's gotten into you?"

Silverstreak muttered against the warm red metal what he'd done and Wheeljack leaned over from the other side of the table and arched his optic ridges.

"You did what to Optimus?"

"I…I kinda lost my temper and…you know what happens when I lose my temper."

"You…electrocuted Prime?" Wheeljack asked, amusement and horror mixed into his voice.

"Yes," Silverstreak sighed, looking very ashamed of himself.

"Silverstreak!" a voice snapped and Ironhide walked into the room. "You attacked Optimus?! What is wrong with you?!"

"I didn't attack him on purpose!" Silverstreak whined as every optic in the room was suddenly focused on him.

"But you did attack him?" Prowl asked from a corner of the room.

Silverstreak was silent for a moment then nodded. "I guess you could call it that," he admitted miserably.

Ironhide strode up to him and picked him up none too gently. "You are coming with me. Optimus wants to talk with you. And this time, I'm going to be watching."

"I don't want to talk with him! All he does is-"

"You are going to talk with him whether you like it or not. He is a Prime, you are not. He is in charge. I know talks with him can be awkward and can hurt, believe me. I've had enough of those to last

me a lifetime. I know it's not easy, but you _will_ listen to what he has to say."

With that said, Ironhide began carrying Silverstreak to what he was sure was his doom.


	2. Fight

Silverstreak stared down into his energon miserably, hiding in the dark corner. He didn't feel like he needed the energy provided by the delicious drink, but it gave him an excuse to just stay out of his room and away from Bumblebee. The yellow mech seemed distant from him lately. It was if he didn't understand where Silverstreak was coming from. Besides, he was angry that the young mech had attacked Optimus.

Just the thought of the Prime made the boy's anger burn hot. Optimus had taken away something that he took great delight in. It had been taken away for an undetermined amount of time. Optimus had told him that he could not go into battle with the Decepticons until he could control himself. It wasn't fair! Silverstreak could control himself as well as any mech could in most situations. It was just the cruelty of humans that had him hurting people.

He growled and stood, ignoring the energon. He needed to get out of the base. Just to get away from everybody. He rushed through the halls and into the open air. He hurried towards the forest and relaxed when he got into the shadows of the trees. It was good to be alone again. Sudden tiredness engulfed him and he went to his little clearing and relaxed against a tall tree. He closed his eyes and relaxed.

_There was a young looking mech sitting alone, looking up to the stars. Soft whines escaped his vocalizer and he placed his head in his hands. He sighed softly and looked back up._

_"Primus, please,_ please _send us somebody who'll understand us, somebody who'll lead us. Somebody we can trust. Somebody like this Optimus Prime we keep hearing about from the older mechs. And, if it's not too much to ask, please let him be nice. We need somebody nice."_

Silverstreak awoke suddenly to the sound of sirens and leaped up eagerly, ready to fight…Oh wait, he couldn't. He growled and sullenly walked back to base, where the Autobots had already loaded up and gone. He walked to his room and settled on the berth after grabbing a book to read. He was bored almost immediately and quickly fell asleep again; he had nothing better to do.

This time when he woke up, it was to Bumblebee limping into the room, his expression dark. Silverstreak refused to look at the large mech and instead turned to face away from him. Bumblebee snorted.

"Oh, come now, Sam," he said irritably. "I know you're upset you couldn't come, but you could at least ask how it went."

"I don't really care," Silverstreak lied, his voice angry.

"Sam," Bumblebee admonished, sitting on the berth. "Talk to me. Believe it or not, I can understand. Back when the war first began, I wasn't allowed to fight. I was only a youngling."

Silverstreak sat up and spun to look at his guardian. "Youngling? Is that what this is about?"

"What?"

"It's because I'm a youngling, isn't it? Well?" Silverstreak demanded.

"It…well, yes. That's part of the reason. You put yourself in extremely dangerous situations when you're fighting and we are all worried about you," Bumblebee admitted.

"You know what?" Silverstreak asked coldly. "Just frag off."

"Sam!"

"No, I'm tired of being treated like a youngling. I can't help that I am one, but I was human and humans mature much faster than mechs!"

"You were just a teenager, Sam!"

"I'm over twenty human years old now!"

"That's a newborn babe by our time!"

"Oh, so now I'm nothing but a baby?!"

"That's not what I said!"

"Um, are we interrupting something?" a hesitant voice asked.

Silverstreak and Bumblebee turned to see First Aid standing in the open doorway, Blaster and Cliffjumper standing wide-eyed behind him.

"What the hell do you want?" Silverstreak demanded, his optics flaring as he crossed his arm and purposefully looked away from Bumblebee.

"Optimus wants to speak to everybody, including you," First Aid replied slowly.

"Yeah? Well I don't want to speak to him!" Silverstreak spat. "I don't even want to see him!"

Bumblebee finally lost his temper. "You are going and that is final!"

The yellow mech snatched Silverstreak up and strode out of the room, the other three following and whispering to each other in Cybertronian about what was going on with the boy and his guardian.

"I've never seen them fight like this before," First Aid murmured.

"I know. I don't know what to think about it. If they aren't careful, one of them is going to get hurt," Blaster whispered back.

"And it'll probably be Bumblebee," Cliffjumper replied.

They all looked at each other and knew that it probably would be Bumblebee that would get hurt. Silverstreak had more power than most mechs. In fact, the only mechs that matched his strength and ability would be Optimus and maybe Ironhide.

Meanwhile, Silverstreak was struggling violently in Bumblebee's grasp, doing everything he could to break the grip, but the yellow mech knew just how to hold him that he couldn't break out, no matter how strong he was. The only thing he could do to get out would be to shock his guardian, and as angry as he was at Bumblebee, he didn't want to hurt him.

He finally gave up and glared viciously at any Autobot that passed them and had the audacity to look at him. Optimus looked surprised when they got to the rec. room.

"Why are you carrying Silverstreak like that?"

"Because he wouldn't come willingly," Bumblebee snapped, giving Silverstreak a threatening squeeze before throwing him onto a table none too gently.

"Glitch head," Silverstreak muttered, standing and childishly crossing his arms.

"Shut up, _Silverstreak_ ," Bumblebee snapped.

Something inside the silver boy broke in that moment. Bumblebee always, _always_ called him Sam. Though Silverstreak had always pretended to be annoyed by it, it had grown on him over the years, and now that Bumblebee had broken that close friendship bond, he lost it.

"Go to the Pit, Bee," he spat, his hands sparking as his temper flared.

"Oh big surprise," Bumblebee said sarcastically. "The silver _freak_ can't control himself. You know, this is why you're always in trouble. You're immature and irresponsible, just like younglings. I'm glad I never was a youngling."

"But you told me-"

"Yes, and I was created as a _mechling,_ not a youngling. Mechlings are young adults by your standards, and though we still aren't fully mature, I was more mature than you!"

"Oh, so _I'm_ the freak? You didn't even have a childhood," Silverstreak growled, well aware of the many pairs of optics on them.

"Yeah? So what? It doesn't seem like I missed much. The war destroyed our home, and your home is still intact. You will _never_ know what it is like to miss Cybertron. You are an Earthling! Not a Cybertronian!"

"You are dead wrong, you yellow-bellied, glitch-headed, slagger! I can and do miss Cybertron. It was a whole hell of a lot better there!"

"Oh? And why is that?" Bumblebee asked, his voice mocking.

"Because you and Optimus weren't there!"

That shut the yellow mech up and he just stared at the silver boy in the dead silence of the room. A soft whine escaped his vocalizer and he began intaking air heavily.

"You don't mean that, Silverstreak," Optimus said, walking forward and standing beside Bumblebee.

"I do to!" Silverstreak growled. "And you know what else? I wish I was still on Cybertron! I wish that there were other younglings that would actually get what it's like living in the fragged up world that you left for them! I want to go home!"

There was a crack and a flash of light and Silverstreak was suddenly falling. He gasped and tried to grab onto something, _any_ thing, but there was simply nothing but air. He fell for about five minutes before landing, surprisingly gently, with a grunt on something slanted. He slid down and landed on the ground….only it wasn't the ground he was used to. It was…metal!

"Cybertron!" he exclaimed in Cybertronian. "I'm home!"

He leaped up and happily celebrated his escape from Optimus and Bumblebee for a moment, relishing his freedom, then there was a noise and he froze and hid, sparks rising to his fingers in defense. He saw the mech from his vision and tilted his head curiously. What? Was he a…?

"H-hello?" the mech asked nervously, speaking in the only language the mech knew. "Is somebody there?"

Silverstreak debated his options before speaking up. "Autobot or Decepticon?"

"Um, well, I'm not allowed to fight. Ultra Magnus says so, but if I had to choose…Autobot," he said, looking around.

The sparks died down as Silverstreak stepped out and the mech's optics widened.

"What are you?"

"I am…different," Silverstreak replied, loathing how human he looked. "My designation is Silverstreak. Yours?"

"I am…Mirage."


	3. Transformation

"Mirage?" Silverstreak asked. "Any particular reason they call you that?"

Mirage gave a hesitant smile then completely disappeared. Silverstreak gasped in shock and delight. What an amazing ability! He hurried forward and Mirage suddenly appeared again, right in front of him.

"Wow!" Silverstreak exclaimed. "Is that your ability?"

"Yes," Mirage said shyly. "But I find it ironic that it matches my name."

Silverstreak smiled. He liked Mirage. And he had a feeling that he knew why.

"Are you a youngling?"

Mirage stared at him for a moment then hung his head as if ashamed. "Yes," he said miserably. "I am a youngling."

The mech looked angry and sad and hurt all at the same time. He turned quickly from Silverstreak and sat down. Silverstreak leaped onto the mech's shoulder and Mirage looked at him. Soft whines came from his vocalizer and he looked embarrassed about it.

"What's wrong with being a youngling?" Silverstreak asked softly, absentmindedly stroking the mech's cheek.

"Are you kidding me? We aren't allowed to do anything," Mirage said between whines. "We're too old to have any fun, too young to help. We're just stuck in the middle and Magnus can't stand us! That's why he shut us away in an old part of the city where we 'can't do any harm.'"

"Magnus? Ultra Magnus?" Silverstreak asked; he had heard of him from Optimus and Kup.

"Yes. He always censors us."

"Maybe he's just watching out for you. Decepticons can be pretty fierce," Silverstreak said slowly, knowing what was coming even as he spoke.

"We know that. We just want to help! Maybe not all the time, but once in a while would be okay."

Silverstreak smiled. "I like you, Mirage."

Mirage glanced sideways at him. "You do?"

"Yes. You're nice. But most of all you're a youngling. I've never met another one."

"You're a youngling, too?" Mirage queried, his optics widening.

"Yep," Silverstreak said proudly. "And I've been in battle."

Mirage moved so fast that Silverstreak fell off his shoulder and barely was able to use his shield to catch himself. Mirage started at the display of power and stared intently at Silverstreak. He knelt down and tilted his head, narrowing his optics as he scrutinized the small figure in front of him.

"What are you?"

"I can't answer that," Silverstreak said stiffly.

"Why not?"

"I can only tell you what I was," came the sad reply.

"Alright then," Mirage said slowly. "What were you?"

"I used to be a human. An organic creature from a planet called Earth."

"Why can you not tell me what you are?"

"Because I don't know. I'm some kind of freaky hybrid between human and Cybertronian," Silverstreak said, looking away from the youngling to try and hide his feelings.

Mirage hesitated a moment before scooping the little youngling up and cradling him to his chest. Silverstreak shuddered and pressed close, listening to the little bursts of electricity that came from the mech's spark. He didn't bother to hide how he felt anymore and whines and tears escaped him. When he had calmed, he wiped the tear streaks away and smiled up at Mirage.

"I can tell we're going to get along just fine," the silver boy said with a nod.

"I'm glad. I'm a little shy, so I don't get along with any of the younglings back at base."

"I know exactly how you feel," Silverstreak assured him. "Well, about the getting along part. I'm not really shy."

Silverstreak liked this youngling. He seemed sweet and shy. That was so different from pretty much every mech he knew, except for First Aid, and even then the shyness was more pronounced in Mirage. Silverstreak smiled encouragingly.

"So where do you guys live? Can you show me?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Silverstreak was appalled at what Mirage showed him. It was horrible. The city looked awful and was half destroyed, and the few buildings that were intact were rusting. Silverstreak immediately wanted to start cleaning up, just to make the younglings lives easier and safer. He felt curious optics looking at him at every turn and Mirage seemed uncomfortable about it. Finally one mech came up to Mirage, who stopped, looking at the ground.

"Hound," Mirage greeted shyly.

"What's that on your shoulder?" Hound asked.

"I'm Silverstreak," the boy replied, amused.

"Oh! You _are_ alive!"

"As alive as you are."

"Neat. So what are you?"

A group of mechs surrounded them at this point, and Silverstreak carefully explained the hybrid thing again while they listened. They were all murmuring amongst themselves, watching him curiously. Silverstreak looked around him at all the mechs.

"Can I get some designations?"

"Certainly." Hound replied.

There were more younglings that Silverstreak had hoped. There were the twins, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, a medic called Pipes, an aspiring scientist named Red Alert, a super hyper mech designated Blurr, a mellow looking mech called Beachcomber, and Seaspray, a rather bubbly mech who spoke with a gurgle in his voice. They all looked like they'd lived in the filth and squalor for a while. They were all covered in dust and needed a nice shower, solvent instead of water, since they were on Cybertron, but a shower nonetheless. He was looking around sadly when a building caught his optic. It looked as if it had been grander than any other building in the area back in its prime.

"What's that?" Silverstreak asked quietly as he pointed.

"Temple of Primus," Beachcomber said smoothly.

"I...have to go there."

"What? Why?" Mirage asked.

Silverstreak leaped down and took off, ignoring the cries for him to stop. He could hear them following, but it didn't matter. He had to get to that building. The Primes, who had been silent for a few years now, egged him on. He reached the huge mass that was the temple and he stared up at. Now that he was here, he didn't know what to do. He pressed a hand to the doors as he heard somebody scream at him not to do it. Silence descended as the doors opened. Silverstreak turned to look behind him. The other younglings stood behind him gaping at him.

"What?"

"Nobody has ever been able to get those doors open." Red Alert said dumbly. "They've been sealed tight for as long as we've been here."

Silverstreak shrugged. "Let's go in," he said eagerly, stepping through.

He could hear the younglings following him as he walked down a long hallway. Something was glowing down at the end behind two large doors, the light peeking out around the edges of the doors. A single touch was all it took for the doors to open, baring a bright light hovering above the floor. Tendrils of light leaped out at Silverstreak and wrapped around his arms, pulling him directly into the center. Power rushed through every inch of his body. He could hear the Primes applauding and the younglings calling out for him. Above all of that a rich voice spoke.

"Arise, Silverstorm Prime."

Silverstorm? But that wasn't his name. His name was Silverstreak...

"Not anymore," Pyro laughed softly. "You are now Silverstorm. A Prime in your own right!"

Shock curled through Silverstorm. Him, a Prime? That didn't suit him very well. He was too impatient, too hot-tempered, too rough around the edges. But the voice that had called him Silverstorm for the first time didn't laugh and take it back. In fact, as he was lowered to the ground, he found himself holding...himself! What the frag?! He looked down and gaped. He was a mech! An actual Cybertronian mech. In his hands he held his old body, all silver and soft. He shuttered his new optics in surprise. How could this have happened?

"A Prime," a voice asked breathlessly and Silverstorm turned to see the younglings staring at him as if he were...a Prime.

Silverstorm tried to stand and nearly fell over. His new body was so different that he couldn't balance right. Hands immediately caught him and helped him to stand. He turned to see Sunstreaker and Sideswipe both gingerly holding him upright. They and the other younglings looked at him reverently and Silverstorm was a little uncomfortable. He didn't feel worthy of such looks. He was still holding himself and he looked down, wishing he was back in that body and suddenly he was. He yelped as the body holding him nearly collapsed, stopped only by the twins' grips. They all looked surprised.

"I can travel between the bodies!" Silverstorm gasped in shock and delight.

"Neat, now can you change back? You're heavy!" Sunstreaker muttered.

Silverstorm focused again and he was suddenly back in his mech body. He stood up straight, looking down at his other body and wondered where to put it. On cue, his other body dissipated, absorbing into his mech form. That was a surprise, but then again, everything that had happened today had been a surprise. He shook his head and attempted to take a step and nearly fell again. The twins let him place his hands on their shoulders as they taught him to walk. The others were still too dumbstruck to do anything, and much too in awe to make fun of him for his lack of balance. After a few minutes of practice, he finally let go of the twins and walked on his own.

"Aren't you going to say something?" Mirage finally asked, breaking the others out of their stupor.

He suddenly realized why the others were staring at him like that. They wanted a grand speech. He felt embarrassed at that. He couldn't deliver that, so he decided to tell them that.

"I...don't really know what to say," he admitted. "And, before you all raise your expectations too high, let me put you straight. I'm not some great Prime. Really I'm not. I'm just a freak who happens to have every fragging dead Prime, and Primus too evidently, on my case. I have no idea how to lead. I don't know how to _be_ a Prime. I..." Silverstorm trailed off and sighed.

"Don't worry. We don't know how to follow a Prime. It'll be a learning experience for all of us," Mirage said with a shy smile. "Any orders?" he ventured to ask after an uncomfortable pause.

"Help me get back to where you're staying?" Silverstorm asked hesitantly.

"Is that a question or an order?" Sunstreaker asked teasingly.

"It's so weird to say this, but it's an order I guess. Yeah, definitely an order."

"Yes sir," they all chorused.


	4. Orders and Magnus

The Autobots stared in shock at the place where Silverstreak had just been. There had been a flash of light and he was just...gone. Bumblebee wailed in shock and grabbed the edges of the table hard enough to bend the metal. He was gone! GONE!

"Sammy!" Bumblebee gasped. "Optimus!" he whined, turning to look at the Prime.

"I'm sure he's fine, Bee. We just...don't know where he is again."

"Betcha he's back on Cybertron," Kup said gruffly. "He clearly wanted to go back there. Maybe Primus heard him."

"I want him back! I need to apologize," Bumblebee moaned. "I didn't mean to call him Silverstreak. He's my Sam. I c-can't-"

A whine interrupted him and Bumblebee couldn't continue. He broke down and all the others could do was coo and try to calm him down.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Silverstorm yawned as he awoke and just lay in the berth. He was lucky the younglings had had one too many. He finally got up the energy to stand and he stretched out his muscle cables. Boy did that feel good! He was careful to keep his mind on how he walked as he still had trouble with it. The walk back from the temple had been very awkward and took forever. He practiced putting one foot in front of the other and soon found himself in the streets. He walked down them, steps growing more confidant as he got used to this new body. He soon found himself back at the temple and a touch to the door had it open for him.

He walked in and the door shut silently behind him. He was slightly hesitant. What was he even doing here? He touched the doors behind him and they stayed shut. Forward it was then. He walked down the hallway and cracked the door open, peeking in. The glowing ball of energy, which had been dim, surged to life and rose up higher. As Silverstorm watched, it became a mech, a gentle faced mech who beckoned him forward. He slid into the room and walked forward hesitantly. He knew who the mech was. There was only one mech who could bestow the title of Prime, and that was Primus.

"Hello, Silverstorm."

"Hello," Silverstorm said shyly then asked the first question on his mind. "Why did you pick me?"

"Because you are a very special mech," Primus said fondly, walking over to him. "I've never known another like you. So resilient and strong."

Silverstorm snorted. "But even I know I'm not good enough to be a Prime. I'm too temperamental."

"Pyro is temperamental," Primus pointed out.

"Yeah...but...Well...That doesn't mean I'll be a good fit as a Prime."

"You don't think you're good enough because you think that Optimus wouldn't think you're good enough," Primus said calmly.

Silverstorm didn't say anything. That was the truth. He felt as if he knew that. Optimus was always getting on to him. Always jumping down his throat about him not being able to control his temper. How it was his job and nobody else's. Why would Optimus think he'd make a good Prime? He'd honestly never given him any reason to. He felt lousy, too. Now that he'd had time to stop and think about it, not brood over the unfairness of everything, he knew he'd been too harsh with both Optimus and Bumblebee. He'd been acting pissy with them only because he couldn't control his temper. Still...it _was_ their fault...wasn't it?

"Your younglings are looking for you," Primus interrupted his thoughts. "I know this meeting has been brief, but you may come by the Temple any time you wish. I cannot promise that I will appear, but the Primes probably will almost every time. You may leave now."

Silverstorm was confused but did so. As soon as he'd walked out of the temple, Mirage hurried up to him.

"Good, you're alright! We were worried you'd left us."

"Leave you? That wouldn't be very...Prime-y now would it?"

Mirage laughed softly. "I like you. I think you're just what our little group needs."

"I guess you could call me an answer to prayer?" Silverstorm asked quietly as they strolled back to where they were staying.

Mirage nearly tripped over himself then looked up at him with wide optics. "I...guess you can," he said slowly.

As soon as he got back to the others, they crowded around him to make sure he was really still there. They were desperate for leadership, Silverstorm realized. They needed him. When they were all convinced he was not leaving, they just stood there and stared at him. He shifted uncomfortably and looked around. An idea popped in his head and he smiled.

"I take it you're waiting for orders?" he asked and received nods from everybody. "Fine. Then let's get to cleaning. Your living conditions aren't even close to being safe and it's time we get you out of the squalor."

They looked surprised at that, and looked around. They started nodding and Mirage touched him lightly.

"Where do we even begin?"

Silverstorm jerked a finger over his shoulder. "The temple. Let's give Primus a reason to live there again."

So they began to work. Day after day they scrubbed the metal on the outside, working higher and higher as time went by. They quickly developed a scaffolding and rope system that kept them all safe even at the incredible heights they worked at. Silverstorm began to really enjoy himself. Once the outside was all done, shining and glorious, the Prime started getting an idea of how beautiful Cybertron used to be. They moved to the inside of the temple, giving it a nice deep cleaning and Red Alert started restoring datapads in the library of the temple. They moved on to another building, this time working on the inside and going out. They had to rebuild the floors and make it structurally sound again. The temple had been the best preserved building in the whole area because of the huge amount of time and effort that had been put into creating it. They got metal from the piles of ruins that littered the streets, melting them together into whatever shapes they needed to patch the holes inside and outside the building. It was tons of work, but the younglings now had a purpose so they did the work happily.

With each building they did, their sense of purpose and accomplishment grew. Their attitudes shifted drastically from dejected to joyful. They no longer felt ashamed of their youngling status now that they had a youngling Prime to guide them. Silverstorm could forget how many depended on him while they were working, but they couldn't work every hour of every day. His followers showed him their little hobbies and Silverstorm showed them Earth things. He had had lots of time to study in the five years he'd been back and now it came in handy. He taught them art and music from Earth, as they had no Cybertronian experience to compare them to, as well as the Cybertronian counterparts. They enjoyed learning and their waking hours were spent with starry optics, kneeling at the feet of their Prime and listening.

Several months after Silverstorm showed up, _he_ showed up. They had been taking a day off, relaxing after so much hard work when Mirage came skittering up to Silverstorm and hid behind him, soft whines leaving his throat. The Prime reached over and wrapped an arm around him, confusion in his face.

"What's the matter, 'Raj?"

Mirage tried to worm his way back to hiding behind him and Silverstorm was immediately on edge. What could have frightened Mirage this bad? He found out a second later when a large blue and white mech came out and glared at him.

"Who are you?" Silverstorm growled, sparks flashing at his fingertips.

"Ultra Magnus. Who are you?" came the reply.

"Silverstorm."

"What are you doing here?"

"I live here."

"I don't remember you."

"I'm new."

"You mean you're a Decepticon."

"No. I'm an Autobot."

"No you're not. You're either a Decepticon or your just a youngling. Autobots do not let younglings fight."

Silverstorm felt his optics flare. "I don't care what you say. I'm an Autobot."

"Fine. Keep your little fantasy. It doesn't change anything."

"I really don't like you," Silverstorm said sweetly. "Now tell me why you're here before I kick your aft out of here. My younglings don't like you."

"You're younglings? What do you think you are? A Prime?"

"He is a Prime," Sunstreaker snapped. "I heard Primus say it myself."

Ultra Magnus laughed. "He's just a youngling. That's all he is. A youngling."

"Leave." Silverstorm was very irritated.

"You don't order me around."

"Watch me."

Ultra Magnus looked angry. "You are a very disobedient youngling. Maybe I need to teach you a lesson." b

"Optimus already tried," Silverstorm laughed. "And failed."

"Now you're lying about Optimus Prime?"

"Nope."

It was like that for several hours. Ultra Magnus didn't appreciate their fixing up the city around them. He was concerned about Decepticons. So Silverstorm tried to barter for weapons to keep them away. It didn't work. Ultra Magnus was adamant about them not having any 'dangerous' weapons. They might hurt themselves, he said solemnly. What irritated Silverstorm the most was that he was treating them like sparklings, not younglings. And Ultra Magnus knew it. He stayed only long enough to give them energon and criticize them thoroughly before he took off again. Silverstorm glared after him, his younglings gathered around him. It was no wonder the younglings had hated themselves. He turned to look at the assembled group.

"We need to teach you how to fight."

"You heard Ultra Magnus. We're not getting any weapons."

"Then we'll build our own."

"How in the universe are we supposed to build a blaster? We'd need all the right parts and intricate knowledge of the weapon to even know where to begin."

"I didn't say anything about a blaster."


	5. Weapons

Most of the younglings were struggling to even hit the target, but they were concentrating so hard on learning how to shoot that it was only a matter of time. Silverstorm smiled at Mirage, who had quickly become the star. He was hitting the target easily and was getting closer to the bullseye each shot. Mirage shot again, the arrow flying straight for the target and missing the bullseye by a hair. They were all fascinated by the Earth weaponry Silverstorm modeled their weapons after. They were practicing with the bows and arrows, and in a couple days would move to swords. He'd already taught them how to wield a knife to protect themselves in a close range fight.

"Very good, Raj," Silverstorm said, patting his shoulder.

"Thanks," Mirage said proudly as he fired his last arrow and struck the bullseye dead center.

"You're quite the marksman," Silverstorm said slowly as Mirage slung his bow over his shoulder.

"I like this…contraption. It makes good use of my vision."

"It'll make even better use out of your special ability," Silverstorm laughed. "They won't know where to shoot!"

Mirage flushed at the praise, his optics turning slightly purple. "You know, you didn't have to do all this for us." All the younglings stopped what they were doing and turned to look at him, nodding in agreement.

"All what?" Silverstorm asked, raising his optic ridges.

"This. Becoming our Prime. Staying once you did. Fixing up our home. Standing up to Magnus. And now you're teaching us how to fight, though with odd weapons, I must admit," Mirage finished, smiling at him.

"You're all younglings, not sparklings. You need to know how to defend yourselves if some Decepticons decide to come into the mix."

"Thank you," Mirage said, embracing him and nuzzling him.

Silverstorm hugged him back and then pushed him away gently.

"The rest of you keep plugging away at it," he instructed. "Mirage, you come with me."

Mirage followed obediently. "Where are we going?"

"To the temple," Silverstorm replied. "I have a question for Primus."

They walked to the temple, the door sliding open at a touch, and they moved to the back room. Mirage looked around hesitantly and the door slammed shut behind him. Primus appeared, standing in the middle of the room. Mirage bowed and Silverstreak inclined his head. Primus smiled.

"What is your question, young Prime?"

"I want a youngling second in command. Is Mirage a good pick?"

"That is up to you," Primus replied with a smile. "But he has a good spark if that's what you want to know. Besides, you may change your second whenever you want. The second may not like it, but it's your choice."

"Do I have your blessing for Mirage?" Silverstorm asked, a little hesitant.

"You have my blessing."

Mirage gasped and looked at him. "You want _me_ to be your second?"

"You're a nice mech, we get along pretty well, and I believe your smart enough to tell me when something I'm doing or going to do is stupid. You're also an excellent sharpshooter, which is a bonus," Silverstorm said with a nod.

Mirage exclaimed in joy and embraced him. He blushed and backed off quickly, bowing his head.

"Thank you, sir," he said. "I'll try my best."

"You can be excited you know," Silverstorm said, tilting the youngling's chin up.

"I can?" he asked, hesitation in his voice.

"You can. I don't mind. I know you're eager."

Mirage embraced him again, sighing as Silverstorm hugged him back. "Thanks. Our overzealous emotions aren't really well liked."

"I know. I have a temper, believe it or not," Silverstorm said with a grin. "It's pretty bad. It seems like none of my other emotions come close to hitting the high notes my temper does."

"Aw, we can work on that. We're used to repressing emotions. We can teach you!"

"Repressing my temper wouldn't be a good idea. It'd just come out later on, and worse. I just need to control my anger."

"That works, too," Mirage said with a nod. "Let's go tell the others?" he still sounded really eager.

"Alright, but don't rub it in their faces."

They bid Primus goodbye then headed back to the shooting range. Everybody had run out of arrows, though there was a little improvement for a few of them. Mirage proudly stood in front of them and told them of his good fortune.

"No way!" Sunstreaker exclaimed. "That's not fair!"

"Just because I didn't choose you to be my second doesn't mean you're any less important, Sunstreaker," Silverstorm said gently. "You're going to be an excellent warrior. I need those, too."

"How do you know I'm going to be…excellent?" Sunstreaker demanded, sounding unsure.

"You wield a knife with extreme precision. Just imagine a sword! I can see you now! Speed and deadly accuracy! You and your brother will be the best warriors in the group!"

Sunstreaker looked pleased, but skeptical. "Okay, sure," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I can almost guarantee you'll be the best," Silverstorm promised.

"What about me?" Blurr asked.

"I need your speed," Silverstorm said without hesitation. "You'll make a great scout, and maybe a spy, as long as you can sit still for a little while."

"And me?" Seaspray asked.

Silverstorm looked at him long and hard, humming to himself. "You're a mech person. You know these guys really well. I'll need you to help me relate to them. Can you do that?"

Seaspray's optics were bright as he nodded. "I most certainly can!"

Beachcomber looked at him with raised optic ridges. "I can help with terrain. I know this part of Cybertron like the back of my servo!"

"I'm willing to help with the science," Red Alert added.

"I'm a medic," Pipes said shyly.

Hound looked dejected and said nothing. "Hound, what are you good at?" Silverstorm asked gently.

"Nothing," Hound muttered.

"Oh, come now. You have to be good at something!"

"Nope," the green mech said with a shake of his head.

"You know Ancient. And you're an excellent scout," Mirage said. "You always find out when Decepticons are nearby and you never get caught."

"Then you, Hound, will be a scout! And from your special hologram ability that I've heard of, you'll be excellent!" Silverstorm exclaimed.

Hound's optics flushed in delight. "Well, I suppose so," he said quietly.

"Now, keep practicing with your knives, and hone your archery skills as well as you can. We start with swords in a week," the Prime ordered.

His order was met with nods and the mechs went down to retrieve their arrows.


	6. Bumblebee

Bumblebee whined softly as he looked around. How would they find him on such a large planet? If he was even here, that is. He wasn't hopeful. He trudged around miserably all day, every day for two weeks. Then, as he was standing guard one recharge cycle, _he_ appeared.

"Hello Bumblebee," a soft, musical voice said.

Bumblebee looked up and froze. There was Primus. He immediately bowed, pressing his face to the metal of Cybertron. A soft touch to his shoulder had him look up.

"Oh, Great One, why are you here? Shall I wake Optimus?"

"No, young one. It is not Optimus I wish to speak to. It is you."

"Me? What could I possibly hope to offer you?"

"Your strength. Your cunning. Your love. Yourself."

"What do you want with it?"

"I need you to guide a Prime of mine, but I will make you your true age so you are truthful going into it. Do you accept?"

"A new Prime?" Bumblebee thought about it. "I don't think so."

"It might get you closer to your spark's desire."

Bumblebee whined softly. "Sam! Okay, I'll do it."

There was a bright flash of light and then…darkness.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

There was a flash of light that shot briefly into the sky. It looked like it came from the temple. Silverstorm set his tools down and narrowed his optics. Primus had never summoned him before. What could he want?

"Mirage!" Silverstorm called.

The mech looked down and rappelled down the side of the building that was currently under construction. He landed and untied himself.

"Yes, Prime?" Mirage asked, smiling at him.

"I am going to the temple. Stay here and watch things for me."

"Yes sir."

Silverstorm began walking away and, as he did, he looked back and glanced over his younglings. They were all happily working on the building, except for Hound, who was translating in the temple. When Silverstorm got there, he placed his hand on the door. The door slid open and in he walked. He went to the center room, the one that Primus usually appeared in, and opened it to see…

"Bumblebee?!" he gasped.

The yellow mech was levitating a couple yards off the floor, and his optics were dim. Primus came out from behind him, smiling mysteriously.

"Greetings, young Prime."

"What's Bumblebee doing here?"

"He was looking for you along with Optimus and the others. I figured you'd like to see your guardian again."

"Well, yes, but…"

"But?"

Silverstorm felt his optics turn pink. "He's probably extremely mad at me."

"No he's not. Besides, you two should be able to talk it out."

Silverstorm let out a breath. "Fine. Wake him up."

"Actually, there's one more thing that needs to be done."

Primus waved his hand and Silverstorm watched as Bumblebee was reformatted before his optics. When everything settled, the Prime smiled. Bumblebee was now younger looking, and quite the youngling he was. Silverstorm walked over and lightly touched the yellow mech's cheek. Blue optics powered up and Bumblebee looked surprised.

"Greetings, Bumblebee," Silverstorm said in Cybertronian, which was the main language he spoke anymore.

"Greetings," Bumblebee said, his voice guarded.

Silverstorm smiled. "Who am I, Bumblebee?"

"You are the Prime that Primus mentioned."

"Yes, but you know me."

Bumblebee looked at him hard then shook his head. "I don't know you."

"You do, but in another form. Hold out your hands."

When the yellow mech complied, Silverstorm projected his other form into the open hands. Bumblebee jerked back and crashed the two yards to the ground. He sat there, mouth open, staring at the form of Silverstreak that was smiling up at him.

"Hey Bee," he said in English.

"Sam!" Bumblebee sobbed, nuzzling the boy's form with his head. He whined when the form disappeared and Silverstorm offered him a hand.

"This is me now, Bee, but you can cuddle my other form whenever you want."

"Sammy, I'm sorry for calling you Silverstreak. I didn't mean it."

Silverstorm's face fell and he released his friend's hand. "That hurt me, Bee. It really did. You _never_ call me that."

"I know. I just wanted to hurt you. Then you disappeared and I thought I'd never see you again. I've regretted that one word for months."

"I love you, my Guardian."

"I love you, too, Sam. But what Prime needs a Guardian?"

"This one."

Bumblebee chirped happily and embraced his boy. Primus cleared his throat.

"Bumblebee," he said quietly.

"Yes Great One?" the yellow mech asked, bowing.

"Rise. Now you take good care of my newest Prime, do you hear youngling?"

"Yes, sir," Bumblebee said.

"Well if you don't need us anymore, we'll get back to cleaning up the city," Silverstorm said with a smile.

"Go on," Primus said with a nod.

The two younglings came out of the temple and Silverstorm stopped Bumblebee a ways away from the temple.

"Look at it, Bee," he said, turning them around.

Bumblebee gasped. "It's just like in its golden days. I only saw it once like this."

Once they had seen the temple long enough, they walked to the building that was currently under construction. Silverstorm called his younglings together and introduced them to Bumblebee.

"And this amazing mech," he said, winking at the yellow mech. "Is my Guardian Bumblebee."

"Why would you need a Guardian?" Mirage asked. "You're the best fighter among us."

"He was my Guardian long before I became a Prime. Why should that change now?"

Mirage studied Bumblebee along with the other younglings. The SIC finally walked over and held out his hand, an Earth gesture that Silverstorm had shown him. Bumblebee gripped it firmly and shook it happily.

"So are you _the_ Bumblebee?" Sunstreaker asked, narrowing his optics.

"The Bumblebee?" the yellow mech asked, looking confused.

"The one that's been through the war," Sideswipe said, his voice suggesting excitement.

"Oh. Yes, I suppose so," Bumblebee said with an embarrassed nod.

"Do you have a blaster?" Hound asked excitedly.

Bumblebee was confused, but he jolted his arm and changed it into his blaster. The younglings made squealing noises in delight and crowded him. "Shoot something!" they cried and Bumblebee backed away in surprise. A word from Silverstorm halted everything.

"Now, now, don't crowd him. He's welcome to use our shooting range to show you what it does. Why don't you go set up a fresh target?"

They hurried away, leaving a very bewildered Bumblebee.

"What was that about?"

"We use Earth weaponry instead of blasters. Ultra Magnus won't give them either weapons or upgrades that would help them turn parts of their bodies into weapons."

"And by Earth weaponry you mean?"

"Bows. Arrows. Katanas. Other swords. Knives."

"Where did you get them?" Bumblebee asked, looking utterly amazed.

"It took us a couple months to develop them. I think they work quite nicely. I'm sure once you demonstrate your blaster, they'll want to show you everything they've learned. Watch the twins with the katanas and Mirage with the bow and arrow. They're the best of each."

"I can't wait."

Mirage hurried up to them. "Okay, Prime, it's set up."

"Come along, Bee. Let's show them what your weaponry can do."

The demonstration went wonderfully. The younglings watched with cheers and hollers then eagerly rushed to grab their own weapons. They showed off, and Bumblebee seemed genuinely impressed. The next recharge cycle, Silverstorm and Bumblebee walked the perimeter together, checking the sensors that would alert them of an intruder.

"So, Bee, what did you think of the weapons?"

"I like them. The bow and arrows are a good idea. Speaking of ideas…"

"Yes?" Silverstorm asked, leaning down to poke the sensor; he got a beep in return.

"Well, you know how there are different grenades, like gas and shrapnel and concussive?"

"Yes," the Prime said slowly, looking his Guardian's face over.

"Why not create arrow heads that do the same?"

Silverstorm's face lit up. "Oh Bee! That's the best idea I've ever heard! Plus it'll give Red Alert something to do! He's actually afraid of heights, so I keep him on the inside of buildings."

"Kills two birds with one stone, as they say on Earth."

"Indeed," Silverstorm said as they checked the last sensor. "This one needs some repairs." He pulled out a datapad and scanned the sensor to mark it for Red Alert.

"Ready for recharge?" Bumblebee asked, stretching.

"Yes. Let's go."


	7. New Nemesis

Silverstorm followed the screams to find a mech holding down Hound, who was writhing under a blade that was slicing into his chest. His younglings froze behind him. Silverstorm yowled in anger, lunging forward and wrapping a rope of electricity around the thickset throat and zapping him. The mech shuddered and the hand that held the knife jerked away from the hilt. The mech turned to look at him.

He was purple and only had one eye, redder than fresh blood and much more evil looking, set directly into the middle of his strange face. Hound scrambled away, crawling behind Silverstorm.

"Who the frag are you, Decepticon?"

The Decepticon had no mouth, yet he spoke clearly. "Who are _you_ , Autobot? You bear the mark of a Prime on either side of your helm, but I know you are not Optimus Prime."

The Prime stood up tall. "I am Silverstorm Prime, leader of these younglings. Now, I ask again, who are you?"

The tone in the Decepticon's voice reminded Silverstorm of Ultra Magnus, condescending and rude. "I am Shockwave, you pathetic creature, trusted servant to Megatron most high."

"Go away," Silverstorm said simply.

"Megatron will be most pleased to know there was a lesser Prime that I disposed of."

Silverstorm tensed as Shockwave lunged at him. They clashed, gripping each other's arms and trying to win the upper hand by wrestling it away from the other. They broke away when their arms began to shake; they were both about the same level of strength, which obviously displeased Shockwave judging by his next words.

"You are a bigger nuisance than I thought. Time for you to die."

Silverstorm brought out energy whips and began to fight fiercely. Keeping Shockwave at a distance, he began to think. He had heard of Shockwave. He was a vicious fighter, a violently psychotic scientist, and he was brilliant at strategy. Ironhide had, possibly jokingly, said he was more afraid of Shockwave than Megatron. When asked why he said, "Because he dismembers mechs slowly while Megatron just kills them."

And now Silverstorm was fighting him. He was afraid because if he lost, his younglings would probably be dissected and used in twisted experiments. Shockwave suddenly slipped past his whips and grabbed one shoulder, stabbing him with his other hand. Pain tore through Silverstorm and he gasped. He pulled his own knife and rammed it into the mech's shoulder. Shockwave backed off and studied him, energon dripping off of his knife.

"You are more prepared than Optimus was the last time I fought him," he stated calmly; he didn't sound like he was in pain from the strike, but he was gushing energon from his shoulder, indicating that the Prime had hit a major energon line.

"Shockwave!" a young sounding voice called.

Silverstorm turned his head and watched as five youngling-looking mechs landed. They had blue optics and were handsomely built. But the shocking thing was that they had wings. Autobots with wings? That was practically unheard of. They were not only fliers, but they looked pissed.

"Ah, Silverbolt. I see you've finally found me. Let me get my tools," Shockwave said with a smirk in his voice.

"Shut up Shockwave," Silverbolt said, his voice wavering.

"Oh, you going to start whining again? I haven't even made the first cut yet."

"You're going to pay for what you did to us," another of the younglings said.

"Oh Slingshot, you're so wrong. You'll just end up in my lab again. Because you're nothing but pathetic—" Shockwave took a step toward them. "—weak—" The mech pulled something out of subspace. "—children!" he said, throwing the object.

They scattered but the one called Silverbolt got caught in an arc of sparks and he collapsed. Shockwave approached the downed mech and the other younglings stood back, obviously frightened, calling desperately for him to get up. Silverstorm looked at the downed mech. He didn't know any of them, but they were younglings. He couldn't let them get hurt. He turned to Mirage and made a hand gesture. The SIC pulled his bow and grabbed a specific arrow out of his quiver; he had been practicing with his weapon when they had heard Hound's screaming.

He pulled the string back, aimed carefully at the middle of Shockwave's back then released. The arrow hit its mark and the impact activated the special ability. When Mirage had fired, Silverstorm had waited the briefest second then placed a shield around the purple mech just as the arrow had hit. There was a concussive blast that rattled the ground, but only Shockwave received any damage thanks to the shield. The mech stumbled back as the shield disappeared, energon rushing out of his damaged audio receptors and his shoulder wound.

"Fool!" Shockwave bellowed, turning shakily to Silverstorm. "You will regret that!"

Shockwave obviously couldn't hear anymore, so Silverstorm made a very rude gesture then shooed him away with his hands. Shockwave ran past the fliers and disappeared. Silverstorm approached Silverbolt. Immediately, the other four younglings were in his face, holding pipes and other heavy items. Silverstorm stopped.

"Easy now. I just want to help."

"Why should we trust you?"

"Well…I'm a Prime," Silverstorm said, testing the waters.

"Optimus Prime?" Slingshot asked, brightening a little as they lowered their makeshift weapons. "Oh, it's great to finally meet you. We've been searching everywhere for you and—"

"Silverstorm."

"What?"

"I'm Silverstorm Prime. I'm new."

"There's only one Prime left, and that's Optimus," Silverbolt said weakly, standing up shakily.

"Primus appointed me about three years ago."

"Prove it."

"First let Pipes look at you. You're hurt. I swear to you on my life that he won't hurt you any more than is necessary to help you."

"No," Silverbolt said sternly, Slingshot holding him up.

"Fine. Follow me to the temple."

After about five steps it was obvious that Silverbolt couldn't make it, and he absolutely refused to be treated by Pipes. So Silverstorm ran to the temple and begged Primus to come out. If the mech didn't, he was afraid Silverbolt wouldn't fare very well. To his surprise and relief, they were instantly teleported to where the younglings were. The fliers jumped and their jaws dropped.

"You know," Slingshot said. "We were just wondering how we could know you're Primus. The only other mech I've ever seen do that is Skywarp, and he has a piece of Shockwave's technology inside of him."

"I certainly am Primus, young one. Don't you recognize me from your dreams?"

"Yes," Silverbolt said weakly.

"Let Pipes repair you," Primus said softly.

"Okay."

Pipes rushed forward and began field repairs. Primus looked the mechs over.

"Silverbolt, I want you and the other Aerialbots to join Silverstorm. You can trust him. I did appoint him three years ago and, though he's not perfect, he is learning. He will be in charge of you. Listen and obey unless you think it's too extreme or dangerous. Make friends. These younglings are all around your age. Talk about what's bothering you. They will listen. Alright?"

"Yes Primus," the Aerialbots chorused.

"Good. Now go and rest."

Primus disappeared and Silverstorm walked over to the Aerialbots. This time they didn't bring up their weapons. The Prime knelt down and placed a hand on Silverbolt's shoulder, noticing the mech looked better already.

"I'm Silverstorm Prime," he said with a smile.

"I'm Silverbolt."

"Slingshot," said the shortest mech.

"Air Raid," said the red one.

"Skydive," greeted the orange one.

There was silence from the fifth one, who was staring into the distance. Silverbolt cleared his throat, but the mech didn't move.

"Fireflight, introduce yourself," Slingshot said irritably. He didn't move.

They all began yelling at him, but he still didn't even seem to register what was going on. Silverstorm stood up and walked over, gently trailing a finger over the mech's cheek. The mech looked at him, his optics not focusing for a moment. They suddenly turned pink and he looked away.

"Sorry, what's going on?"

"Your designation?"

"Oh, Fireflight."

"It's good to meet you all. These are my mechs…well, younglings really, but I love them anyway," Silverstorm said with a wink at the mechs in question. They smiled.

Bumblebee suddenly raced up with Blurr. "Sam, I just saw…you're bleeding."

"Yeah. I just fought Shockwave."

Bumblebee looked horrified. "Oh…" he said weakly. "But y-you're alive."

"Yes. Mirage shot him with a concussor and I contained it to him."

"I see…" he looked at the Aerialbots. "Should I be worried about them?"

"No. They're our newest additions."

"Are you fliers?" Bumblebee asked, looking them over closely.

"Yes," Silverbolt said.

"But you're Autobots, aren't you?"

"We want to be."

"Well, if you're on my team, you're Autobots."

They looked extremely happy. "Thank you," Fireflight said dreamily.

"No problem. All done Pipes?" Silverstorm asked as the blue mech stood up.

"That's all I can do for now. Let's get him home so I can finish the repairs."

"Come along, Aerialbots," Mirage said, hurrying forward to help Silverbolt up.

Silverbolt looked unsure as he took the hand and stood unsteadily. Mirage slipped one of his arms around the flier's shoulders. Slingshot took the other side and they helped him walk toward the base.

When the time of their recharge cycle came along, Silverstorm entered the medbay and settled on the berth that wasn't occupied by Silverbolt. The flier looked at him confusedly.

"Pipes said nobody could stay with me."

"I thought you wouldn't want to stay in a strange place alone. I know I'm practically a stranger, but maybe we can talk a little."

"No thanks. I don't talk."

Silverstorm laughed. "You sound like me."

"What?"

"I don't like talking about my problems."

"Oh. The other Aerialbots know my problems. No offense, but I don't think you'd understand."

"You never know," Silverstorm said. When Silverbolt stayed silent, the Prime smiled softly. "Hey. I want you to tell your friends—and this applies to you, too—that I will always be available for you to talk to. Always. If you really need to talk, tell me. I will make time for you. I will not judge you and will try to understand the best I can. Okay?"

Silverbolt turned to look at him. "Really?"

"Really. Now, let's recharge."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Shockwave appeared in the movie continuity already (with a freaking awesome pet) but I started this storyline before Dark of the Moon. So...yeah, he's got a more prominent role in my story than in the movie. :)


	8. Temper

Optimus sat on guard duty, watching his men recharge. He was upset, though he had been careful not to show it. Ironhide and Ratchet knew, but that was because they had known him for such a long time. He sighed. They had been looking for Silverstreak to calm Bumblebee, and had made no progress. Now the yellow mech was missing, too.

"Oh Silverstreak," Optimus sighed softly.

He felt extremely guilty for driving the boy away. In all of his years as a Prime, he had tried to be fair, tried to listen and not judge. But there was something about Silverstreak that just rubbed him the wrong way. He seemed to be so against Optimus that it hurt. He was just trying to help, but Silverstreak didn't seem to want to hear it.

"Want to talk about it?" a gruff voice asked.

Optimus looked up to see Ironhide sitting up. The Prime shook his head. Ironhide didn't need to be weighed down by his burdens. The black mech snorted.

"You always say that," he said, looking exasperated.

Optimus shrugged. "Get some more recharge."

"At least tell me something."

The Prime sighed. "It's Silverstreak. I just wish he'd understand I want to help him. His temper is a problem. I just… Primus, I wish he would realize that."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Anger was bubbling just below the surface. Silverstorm had a pretty good idea of what was causing it, and he was practically vibrating with it. He had left his younglings in the care of Bumblebee to give himself a break, but it wasn't helping. Close to their next recharge cycle, Mirage came to find him.

"Hello, Prime," he said cheerfully.

"Not now, Mirage," Silverstorm muttered angrily.

"What do you mean not now?" the SIC asked with a frown. "You've been alone out here all day."

"I want to be alone."

"Why?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Talking about it would help."

"No it wouldn't."

"C'mon Prime! I'm your second. I'll understand."

"I highly doubt that."

"Silverstorm, please."

"I said no," the Prime growled as sparks began snapping at his fingers.

"But—"

"No!"

Something happened that had never happened before. His anger had reached such a high point that there was this small explosion inside of him and a big one outside of him. Electricity arced off of him in a wave that launched out and around him in a perfect bubble that dissipated a short way away. Silverstorm was so surprised that he could do nothing but stare. That is, he could do nothing but stare until he heard a soft moan.

"'Raj!" he gasped, kneeling down and touching the poor younglings head. His body was still sparking with residual waved of electricity.

After sucking out the remaining electricity, Silverstorm lifted the mech up and raced for home. He put him in the medbay and called for Pipes, telling him to hurry. An hour later, Silverstorm was sitting outside the medbay with his knees up and his face buried in his arms. Bumblebee was beside him with his hand on his back. Pipes walked out with a rag, cleaning his hands.

"Well, he's stable. What happened to him anyway?"

Silverstorm's optics turned pick; he could tell as the light reflected on the silver metal on his arms. He had been debating on whether or not to tell them and had decided that no matter how it hurt him or them, he had to tell them the truth. He stood and they immediately grew a little worried when they saw his optics.

"Silverstorm?" Hound asked softly.

"Was it Decepticons?" Sunstreaker asked, pulling out a sword.

"No," Silverstorm said softly. He took a deep breath. "It was me."

They looked confused. Pipes came around to look at his face.

"I thought so. It looked like electrical damage."

"I didn't mean to. I was angry about Mikaela and Optimus and he was asking me to talk about it. I didn't want to, but he just kept asking and I… I'm sorry. It just sort of came out. I told you all I have a temper."

Silverstorm expected something akin to a riot. What he got was looks of confusion.

"Why didn't you want to talk about it?" Beachcomber asked.

"Yeah," Seaspray said with a nod. "Talking really helps."

"I…I didn't think you'd understand. Plus it'll sound really stupid when I say it out loud."

"You listen to us, so we'll listen to you," Hound said kindly.

Silverstorm smiled softly. "Thanks." He turned to Pipes. "Is 'Raj online?"

"No, but he should be any minute now."

"Get me when he is. The rest of you, go recharge."

"Yes sir," they all chorused.

Pipes went back inside the medbay and the others went to their recharge quarters. Another hour passed before the medic came out.

"He's awake."

"Is he going to need anything else?"

"Not for tonight, no."

"Then go recharge. I'll stay with him tonight."

"Thank you, Prime," he said, doing the Cybertronian equivalent of a yawn.

They parted, Pipes belatedly following his friends to recharge, and Silverstorm went in to the medbay to see Mirage sitting up and leaning against the wall behind the front of the berth. Silverstorm walked over to the other berth and sat down, sighing heavily.

"Do you want to talk about it now?" the SIC asked softly.

"Yes. I suppose I do. But it's going to take a little explaining," Silverstorm said, pressing his palms together.

"I've got nothing but time for you, Prime."

"Well, you know how I looked before I got this body? As I told you I was human. And there was this girl…"

Silverstorm explained about Mikaela and how hurt he was by her marriage to Leo. He ended his explanation about her by mentioning her strange behavior change toward him. He left out the part about Optimus. He didn't want to talk about that yet. Mainly because he didn't feel like a Prime when he _thought_ about Optimus. He was probably going to feel even worse talking about him.

Mirage looked thoughtful. "Well, this little thing they produced, this sparkling. It's probably what altered her behavior. She's probably worried about it. You're not exactly the typical human and she probably doesn't want what happened to you, happening to it."

"Him. He's male."

"Him then."

Silverstorm smiled at the mech. "I never thought of Joseph like that. Now that you mention it, you're probably right. She is a mother now, after all."

Mirage smiled back. "Everybody is protective over sparklings."

Silverstorm sighed again. "I'm sorry about what happened. I really am. I didn't want to give voice to my thoughts because I thought you wouldn't understand or that it would sound stupid."

"We've had a lot of time to figure out things like talking. As painful as you think it will be, just say it. It won't hurt as much as all that."

"You sound wise beyond your years," Silverstorm said, nodding his head solemnly.

"We all have realized that," Mirage said with a shrug. "Now, let's recharge."


	9. Vehicle

Silverstorm watched as his younglings practiced. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were dueling. Mirage was running up and down the firing range, rapidly firing arrows at the targets. When he ran out he collected his arrows and let the others practice. Bumblebee was teaching the rest of them hand to hand combat. They all knew the basics for everything so they were just honing their skills. It had been three and a half years since Silverstorm's appearance and everything was running smoothly. Hound and Blurr were suddenly running toward him. He dropped everything and grabbed the blue speedster before Blurr could crash into him.

"Whoa, slow down Blurr!" Silverstorm coaxed. "Relax. What's going on?"

"Primus wants to see us. All of us."

Silverstorm pressed his comm. link. _"Silverbolt? You and the Aerialbots need to meet us at the temple as soon as possible."_

_"Yes, Prime."_

The temple didn't open for Silverstorm so they stood outside. Primus appeared as the Aerialbots touched down.

"Greetings, my children," he said warmly. They all bowed.

"What's up?" Silverstorm asked.

"This time, it's about you."

"Me? But I told everybody what I did and I apologized!"

"I know, and that was difficult for you. But this is about your alt mode."

"I don't have an alt mode."

"Precisely."

Silverstorm immediately felt nervous. "I don't need one."

"Sam," Bumblebee admonished gently.

"Oh, I don't want one! I don't even know how to transform. And won't it hurt?"

"The first few transformations are," Bumblebee said with a nod. "But after that, it's really smooth."

"Well…How will I drive?"

"It's just like walking. You pick it up. I'll teach you."

"Now, what alt mode do you want? You can have any Cybertronian vehicle you want," Primus said.

Silverstorm hummed. He turned and looked over his mechs. His optics landed on the Aerialbots. It had been three months since they had joined his team, and they were still distant from all of them. If he was a flier, they would teach him how to fly, which was a good thing. He smiled, turned, and whispered to the Maker. Primus jolted.

"That's never been done before!" he exclaimed.

"Can you do it?" Silverstorm asked.

"I'd have to take you into the temple and modify your protoform. It will be extremely painful."

"Okay."

Primus narrowed his optics, but Bumblebee spoke. "What form do you want?"

"I'll surprise you."

Hours later, Primus taught Silverstorm how to scan and he scanned a sleek Cybertronian jet. He walked out of the temple gingerly; everything was sore. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe stopped dueling and everybody turned to look at him. Silverstorm noticed that the Aerialbots were watching from a distance, but as Primus raised his hands, they walked forward and joined the group.

"It took longer than I had hoped, but his protoform is modified. He has scanned his chosen vehicle. Now he just has to see if it works for him. So, Silverstorm Prime, transform."

Silverstorm froze up for a second. Bumblebee made an encouraging chirp, and with that one noise, the Prime relaxed. He took in a big breath of air to cool his hot systems then focused his energy. When the gears and circuitry started shifting, Silverstorm's first reaction was to stop, but Bumblebee told him to keep going. With every groan of metal on metal that hadn't ever moved before, Silverstorm wanted to scream, but he didn't. When he had finally transformed, he groaned, a deep sound.

"That hurt."

"Um, Sam?" Bumblebee asked, confusion evidence in his voice.

"Yeah?"

"You're a jet."

"Yeah."

Sam slowly transformed back, groaning again. He rolled his shoulders when he was back in his bipedal mode. The Aerialbots were staring at him. Well, everybody was staring at him, but the Aerialbots looked interested while everybody else was confused.

"I've never had a Prime who was a flier before," Primus said. "But that's what he wanted."

"Why?" Silverbolt asked.

"Fliers are useful, and we need all we can get."

"Is that all?" Slingshot asked suspiciously.

"Well, no," Silverstorm said. "Since you guys are the only fliers I know, you have to teach me how to fly. I wanted to spend time with you."

They looked surprised, and Slingshot snorted. "What if we don't teach you how to fly."

"Why don't you want to teach me how to fly?"

"You keep trying to get to know us," Air Raid said, looking a little angry. "We don't want you to."

"Why not?"

Dead silence. Their optics turned pink as the other younglings stared. Silverbolt finally crossed his arms.

"Fine, we'll teach you how to fly."

"Good. We'll start when my protoform stops hurting. I do have one question."

"Yes?"

"How hard is it to learn how to fly?"

They laughed at him. "It's the hardest fragging thing you will ever learn," Skydive chuckled.

"And it hurts," Fireflight murmured, staring off into the distance.

"How much?" Silverstorm asked nervously.

"Depends."

"On what?"

"How fast you're going."

"Or how far you fall," Slingshot said with a smirk.

Silverstorm sighed. "Well, I'm not changing forms, so I guess I'll have to learn to live with it."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Silverstorm stood there awkwardly. They were all staring at him. Somebody touched his back and he turned his head to see Silverbolt.

"Well, let's see 'em."

"See what?"

"Your wings. You must have a compartment that hides them. I wish we did. Wings are very sensitive."

It took a little focus and searching of his own body, but he finally released his wings. He shuddered immediately as the Cybertronian air currents hit them.

"This first lesson doesn't involve thrusters or flying at all. I will not allow you off the ground until you can sense even the minutest change in the air currents and know precisely what that means for you while in flight," Silverbolt said firmly.

"Alright. Let the lesson commence," Silverstorm said.

The lesson didn't end when they stopped that day. It was close to four months later when he finally passed the lesson with everybody's approval. Now came the scary part. Actually learning how to fly. They gathered together at the usual spot and Silverstorm was unconsciously playing with his hands in a nervous fashion. Fireflight placed his hand on the ones that were wringing together. Silverstorm jumped.

"What?" he demanded.

"Relax," Fireflight said softly. "You're not going too high today. We're going over thrusters and basic movements like turning. We're saving the aerial acrobatics for later."

Silverstorm let out an intake that was no longer cool, but rather hot. He hadn't even realized he'd been holding it in. He sucked in some cool air to relieve his heated systems then let it out slowly.

"Okay, how do we start?"

"This is going to be fun," Slingshot said, grinning.

A little bit of relief flooded through his system and he relaxed slightly. "What do I do?"

"Activate your thrusters. It's going to feel very weird the first time around, but…in all honesty that won't be what's on your mind," Silverbolt said.

Silverstorm focused his attention on his thrusters, which he was completely aware of thanks to lesson number one. He ignited them and immediately regretted it. He had absolutely no control and found himself slamming into a building.

He awoke to some brief static that solidified into a very amused looking group of Aerialbots.

"That wasn't fun, Slingshot," he said dryly.

"Oh, I didn't mean that it was going to be fun for you," Slingshot laughed.

"Gee. Thanks."

"Hey, you didn't bend a wing. That's good," Skydive said encouragingly.

"My processor hurts and I feel a little numb."

Fireflight giggled. "That's better than I was. I was the first one to figure out how to fly."

Silverstorm sat up and sighed. A question wriggled into his mind and he approached it cautiously.

"Mind if I ask you something?"

"Sure," Fireflight said.

"Well, you're focusing a lot more now that you're teaching me to fly." Their faces fell and the guardrails came up, but he pressed on. "And I know you don't really want to talk about it, and you don't have to if you don't want to, but I would like to know why."

"It's…complicated," Fireflight said, immediately starting to zone out.

"No, no, no! Don't do that!" Silverstorm exclaimed reaching over to stroke the mech's cheek.

"I can't help it," Fireflight whimpered. "It's my defense mechanism."

"Defense from what?"

"Enough!" Silverbolt snapped viciously.

Silverstorm jolted in surprise as his hand was slapped away and Fireflight was drawn into Air Raid's and Skydive's arms. What was their secret? he wondered. But he wouldn't press. He held up his hands.

"Fine, fine. I won't pry. But one more question." When Silverbolt gave a cautious nod, Silverstorm continued. "Fireflight said that he was the first one who figured out how to fly."

"So?" Slingshot demanded suspiciously.

"Did nobody teach you?"

They relaxed. "We had to teach ourselves," Air Raid said calmly, still holding tightly to Fireflight.

"Am I allowed to ask why?"

Silverbolt narrowed his optics as he thought. "Well, you can't ask where we were or why we were there, but there was no teacher to teach us."

Silverstorm thought about asking about Shockwave, but he didn't want to lose his own teachers, so he let it drop. He stood and shook out his body. They stood back, and Air Raid and Skydive released Fireflight, who looked at least somewhat focused.

"So…how can I do this without flying into a building?" Silverstorm asked.

"You do it gently and give us your hands," Slingshot said. "Just don't drag us along with you."

"Let's do it."


	10. Flight Test

Silverstorm was humming when he got "the sense." Optimus had talked about that to him briefly. It was something that the elder Prime got when one of his mechs was in trouble. The sense shuddered up and down his body and it was intense. The more intense it was, Optimus said, the more trouble he or they were in. He dropped everything and hurried away, telling Mirage and Bumblebee to watch over the construction project. When he was out of sight of the others, he began to sprint. He had no idea where he was going, but he soon discovered he didn't need to know. His pedes just took him where he needed to go.

It was Fireflight. He was screaming. Loudly. And running around slamming into things hard enough to be worrisome. Silverstorm ran over and grabbed him, twisting him onto the ground. Even though it shouldn't have been possible, the crazed flier got louder and sounded even more terrified. Between the garbled words coming out of his mouth, the Prime got "Shockwave," "stop," "blood," and "dying." Using his greater strength and being careful of the distressed flier's wings, Silverstorm pinned him in his lap with his audio receptor near the Prime's mouth.

"Hey, hey, calm down. It's me, Silverstorm. You know me, it's okay. I'm right here. Shockwave's not going to get you. I won't let him."

Those last words produced a change in the screaming, struggling flier's demeanor. He stopped moving and asked something in a wounded tone.

"Promise?"

"To the best of my ability, I promise."

There was silence for a few minutes, both of them just breathing in and out softly.

"Silverstorm? Would you sing me a lullaby?"

"Certainly."

The Prime sang several lullabies, some from Cybertron and some from Earth. When he was finished, they sat there in silence until Fireflight sighed heavily and shifted to sit on the metal of Cybertron. He was nervously playing with his hands, so Silverstorm placed his on the nervous ones.

"Where are your wing brothers?" he asked softly.

"They went out for a flight," he said softly. "I didn't know I was going to have flashbacks."

The Prime wanted to so badly, but he didn't ask what the mech was flashing back to. It turns out, he didn't have to.

"Can I trust you? Can _we_ trust you?" Fireflight asked seriously.

"Yes. Whatever it is, I won't tell anybody, not even Bee. I wouldn't even tell Optimus Prime if I had the option."

Fireflight smiled, but it was sad. "We, like your younglings, were some of the last sparklings to be created before the war. But Shockwave got his servos on us. He took us away from the others and kept us in isolation. He kept telling us when we were sparklings that when we became younglings we were going to be part of a great experiment. He was like a Protector to us, though he did have a temper.

"The first thing he did to us the second we became younglings was what Primus did to you, which was changing our protoforms to a flier's lighter build. He wasn't as good as Primus. We were berth ridden for weeks. He forced us to scan an alt mode as soon as we could walk again, but he did let us pick which ones we wanted. He then started to do these…sick, demented, Primus forsaken experiments with us. He twisted our bodies and sparks into what he wanted. It was pure agony, mental, physical, and emotional. The worst was when he finally made us combine."

"Combine?"

"We're what Shockwave calls a gestalt. We have this thing called a bond that links our minds and sparks, so we feel pain when the others feel pain and we can hear each other's thoughts. But the most amazing part is that we can physically transform and combine to form a giant transformer. His name is Superion. He's a separate entity from us."

The Prime sat motionless, taking in the information. He could sense Fireflight getting nervous so he smiled.

"I'm sorry that happened to you, but look at yourselves now. You're stronger, and you're so close to each other. I'm a little jealous. I'd love to be connected to Bumblebee like that."

Fireflight smiled then frowned. "As for what's wrong with me, it's how I cope with all the pain I've suffered. I just retreat into myself. I know, I'm a burden."

"There is nothing wrong with you and you're not a burden," Silverstorm said fiercely. "You're you, and that's all I can ask you to be."

Fireflight whined happily and embraced the Prime. There was the sound of frantic running and the Aerialbots shot around the corner of a building. They froze when they saw them for a brief second then hurried over.

"Fireflight! Are you alright?" Silverbolt asked breathlessly.

"I am now," Fireflight said softly, pulling away from his Prime.

"What happened?" Slingshot demanded. "I bet he was asking you questions! Let me tell you something, _Silverstorm_ —!"

"He didn't ask me any questions, Slingshot, so just shut up. But…I did kinda…tell him…"

"Tell him _what_?!" they chorused together, looking angry.

"Well, I trust him," Fireflight said crossly. "And it's too late to stop me anyway."

Silverbolt looked absolutely livid for a moment then his shoulders slumped. "Fine. Just…fine."

"He promised he wouldn't tell anybody, not even Bee or Optimus Prime," Fireflight said, standing up and placing an arm around the mech.

"Well…I guess we can trust him. C'mon let's take him to his next lesson," Slingshot said with that one particular smile.

"Next lesson?"

"Yes, you've got turning, flying up and down, and surfing wind currents. Let's take you up to see if you're afraid of heights," Silverbolt said.

"Okay. Where to?" Silverstorm said happily.

They took him to the tallest building around and it was well preserved so they walked up the stairs on the inside. At the top, one look down made Silverstorm swallow convulsively. He noticed that Silverbolt was standing in the center and didn't come to look down with him.

"Are you afraid of heights?" Silverstorm asked.

"Energon curdling terrified," Skydive said with a smile. "And he can't change into a ground vehicle because of what we are."

"I do have some advice for you though," Silverbolt said, smiling like Slingshot had earlier.

"What?" Silverstorm asked.

"I suggest not hitting the ground too hard."

"Wait, what?!"

Silverstorm felt hands on his back and the next thing he knew, he was plummeting toward the unforgiving ground. Panic went through him, and his mind raced. He deployed his wings on instinct and launched his thrusters. Spark zapping violently in his chest, he waited for the impact, but none came. He found himself about a thousand feet off the ground, hovering nicely. There was laughter from above and the Aerialbots came to hover around him.

"That. Wasn't. Funny," Silverstorm managed to spit out.

"Best way to teach you how to really fly, though," Fireflight said happily.

"Still. Not. Funny."

"Oh really now," Silverbolt chided. "You're fine. If we thought you'd die we wouldn't have pushed you."

"Who got to push _you_ off a building?" Silverstorm spat childishly, crossing his arms.

"We didn't get pushed, except for Silverbolt. We jumped," Air Raid said, casually floating in front of the Prime just to show that they were in midair.

"Why? Why would you willingly jump off a building?"

"We had to escape Shockwave somehow," Skydive said.

"Oh."

"At that point in our lives, we thought it was better to die than to stay locked up," Silverbolt said with a nod.

"But it turns out that Shockwave hadn't stopped our learning to fly in time. We survived. After surviving on our own for a while, we decided to go after Shockwave, and that's where we met you," Fireflight said.

"And the dreams with Primus?" Silverstorm asked, experimentally moving around; it was easier than he thought.

Slingshot shrugged. "Ever since Shockwave captured us, Primus has appeared in our dreams. He helped us as much as he could. Without the Allspark, he can't really move around like he used to. He's stuck in and a short ways around the temple."

"Now, ready to learn some tricks?" Fireflight asked.

"Teach me all you know," Silverstorm said. "And, one more thing. Next time you're going to push me off a building? Don't."

They laughed and shoved him playfully.

"Now catch me if you can!" Fireflight shrieked, taking off.

"Hey! No fair! I don't know how to go fast yet!"


	11. Reunion

Silverstorm watched the warehouse carefully, Decepticons swarming around it. His younglings were in position around him.

"Ready?" he asked softly. They nodded. "Mirage, do the timed shrapnel arrow."

"Where do I fire it?" he asked, nocking the arrow.

"Wherever you think it will do the most damage."

Mirage took a deep breath to steady his hand then fired neatly in the middle of them. The impact started the ten second timer and over half of the Decepticons gathered around it suspiciously. That was exactly what the younglings wanted. The timer hit zero and shrapnel shredded the circled Decepticons. Some of the shrapnel hit their processors and half of the ones around the arrow immediately dropped dead.

"You ready?" Bumblebee asked the others.

They nodded nervously. Silverstorm stood, and he and the younglings pretended to be running away from something. They slid to a stop halfway to the Decepticons, and they looked scared; they weren't pretending this time. The Decepticons surrounded them, pointing their weapons at them.

There was stillness for a moment then electricity leaped from Silverstorm to shock the guns out of their hands. Swords were drawn in a second and the battle began. When the Decepticons were properly distracted, Bumblebee and Red Alert sprinted for the warehouse.

"Go on, Red," the yellow mech said quietly. "Find them and signal me when you do."

"Okay," Red Alert said nervously, dashing into the halls.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Optimus onlined blearily, still a little hazy from the drugs that had been administered to keep him in place. His men were all around him, struggling. Suddenly the door slid open and in came…a youngling? He looked frightened as he did a quick sweep of the room. He paused.

"Red Alert!" Ultra Magnus snapped. "What in the Pit are you doing here?"

The youngling suddenly looked disdainful then smiled a rather triumphant smile. "We are saving your aft."

"With what? You have no weapons."

Red Alert pulled a sword from its compartment, light from the ceiling gleaming off the blade.

"I didn't bring my bow, so I can't show you that," he said, twirling the sword and smirking at the look on Ultra Magnus' face.

"What? I mean…How did—?" the blue and white mech stuttered, staring at him.

"Prime did it. The bow is an odd weapon, and the swords of strange shape, but they're quite effective."

"Prime?" Ironhide asked, turning to look at Optimus.

"Not that one. Our Prime. Silverstorm."

"How many times do I have to tell you that that pathetic youngling isn't a Prime?" Ultra Magnus spat.

"He's a hundred times the mech you are," Red Alert said, sheathing his swords and pulling out a device. He turned something on it and there was a beep. He then placed a hand to his comm. link. "I found them. Optimus Prime looks drugged. Bring Pipes with you. It looks like what Shockwave did to Silverstorm that one time." He listened to the response then nodded. "Okay. Hurry."

Red Alert brought out a thin, flat object. It was pointed at the top, and the other end was three quarters of a square. It was a lock pick. He walked over and looked at everybody.

"Release me," a strangely yellow green one said. "So I can tend to Optimus."

Red Alert did so, and faster than any of them had ever seen a lock picked. Ratchet stood up and hurried over to Optimus.

"Unlock him."

Again it was fast. Optimus had lots of locks for him to pick. So did Ironhide, and a red mech named Blaster. Then he moved to an orange, red, and pink mech.

"Hey! You're a youngling," Red Alert said happily.

"Yep. The designation's Hot Rod."

"I am Red Alert," he said, unlocking the mech.

Just as he unlocked a mech called Perceptor, Bumblebee came running in, along with the dark blue colored Pipes.

"What's his status?" Pipes asked.

"Oh, no," Ultra Magnus said sharply; he was still tied up. "You are _not_ qualified to treat anyone. You haven't had any training."

"Shut it, glitch head," Bumblebee said. Optimus looked up groggily.

"Bee?" he slurred.

"Yes, Optimus?"

"Y-you've been here?"

"Well, not _here_ but I get what you're saying. So to answer your question, yeah."

Pipes leaned down. "Open your mouth, Optimus." He sniffed. "Frag. It's Shockwave's doing alright. I got just the solution. Fast acting, but tastes terrible. Also gives you a horrible processor ache after about an hour."

He pulled a vial out of subspace and shook it. The blue substance started bubbling and he popped the top.

"What is that?" Ratchet asked firmly, grabbing Pipes' hand before the youngling could help Optimus drink it.

"Um, it doesn't really have a name. Red and I made to together to counter Shockwave's drug. Like I said, it works."

Ratchet narrowed his optics and studied him. "Bee," he finally said, turning to the yellow mech. "Do you trust him?"

"He's the medic and he means well, Ratch. Don't dis him just because he's a youngling. The stuff really works."

"Fine."

Pipes had Optimus swallow it, physically holding the Prime's mouth closed as he tried to spit it out. When Optimus finally got it down, they waited. Five minutes passed and Optimus' optics suddenly brightened and he easily stood up.

"That _was_ fast," Ratchet said, obviously impressed.

"Thanks," Pipes and Red Alert said.

"Now, let's get out of here."

"Um, hello?! I'm still tied up here!" Ultra Magnus said. Red Alert and Pipes stared at him for a few seconds.

Red Alert looked at the key in his hand then up at Bumblebee. "Do I have to?"

Bumblebee looked Ultra Magnus over, looking thoughtful. "Silverstorm wouldn't want you to leave him."

"Are you sure about that?" Red Alert asked as he picked the locks.

"About fifty-five percent sure."

"Eh, it's over fifty," Pipes said. "Now let's get out of here before Shockwave or Megatron shows up."

The group hurried through the halls and burst out onto the battlefield. The mechs powered up their weapons and charged in to the fray. Red Alert and Pipes, who weren't really keen on fighting, hurried around to the other side and stood watching, weapons at the ready just in case.

Pipes suddenly gasped. There were Shockwave and Megatron. And they were picking their way over to Silverstorm.

Pipes pressed his comm. link. "Silverbolt, you and the Aerialbots need to come and attack! Target Shockwave!"

"You got it, Pipes," Silverbolt said.

There was the screeching of jets and the five fliers suddenly shot into view. Optimus' men cried out in dismay, thinking they were Decepticons. A spray of light came from the jets as they dive-bombed Shockwave, who was now wrestling with Silverstorm. Optimus fired on them, but they dodged, pulling up just in time to avoid crashing. Silverstorm was thrown back, slamming into a building with a grunt. Silverbolt landed in front of him, having transformed in midair. As he reached down to help him up, a gun was pointed at his head.

"Back off," Optimus said.

"No!" Silverstorm said, shooting to his feet. "Silverbolt's on our side!"

Optimus looked surprised. "Autobot fliers?"

"Yes. I swear to you, he and the other Aerialbots are with us."

"You are the other Prime?"

"Yes, but, er, we can't talk now."

"Why not?"

"Because, Prime, now you must face me," Megatron said, spinning Optimus around.

"And I shall take care of the lesser one," Shockwave said.

The fighting was fierce, and both Primes struggled with their own enemy. Sometimes they came out on top, other times they were just fighting to survive.

The Decepticons landed on each other, Shockwave on top.

"Raj!" Silverstorm shouted, gesturing frantically.

An arrow was swiftly fired, and just like the many times before with Shockwave, he contained the blast. An explosion of fire swept the inside of the shield. When it faded, the shield came down and they couldn't see because of the smoke.

"Retreat!" Megatron shouted, and the Decepticons transformed and hurried away. Shockwave lingered, his red optic staring hard at Silverstorm.

"You will die," he said. "You're not Optimus." He hurried away.

Silverstorm stared after him, well aware those words were true. Mirage hurried over.

"Prime, you okay?"

"Yes," both Primes answered, turning to him.

"Oh, not you, Optimus. Silverstorm. But glad you're okay, too."

"Any casualties?"

"The twins got hurt. And so did Hound."

"What happened?"

"Shrapnel arrow," he said, looking embarrassed. "A Decepticon snuck up on me and stabbed me in the shoulder while I was aiming. I jolted and fired at the wrong spot."

"Pipes!"

The blue mech hurried up. "Yes, Prime?"

"Look at Raj's shoulder."

Pipes did so while everybody else hurried over.

"Prime, you okay?" Ironhide asked.

Silverstorm didn't bother to answer like Optimus had. "Yes, Ironhide, I'm fine."

"I don't believe you," Ratchet said dryly.

"You never do."

"Because sometimes you lie to me."

"I have that same problem with Silverstorm," Pipes said, stepping back and cleaning his hands. "Now he has to come to the medbay after every battle or else."

"Or else? You threaten a Prime with an or else?" Ironhide asked. "What or else could possibly be strong enough to convince a stubborn Prime who doesn't want to bother anybot with his problems that he needs to come to your medbay?"

Pipes smirked and grabbed Bumblebee's arm, patting it. "This little beauty is my secret weapon."

"Bumblebee? Why would he care so much about Bumblebee?"

"Because Bumblebee is his Guardian."

Optimus and his men stiffened then looked as Silverstorm, who was a short way away talking with the twins. Both the red and yellow were leaking energon.

"Silverstreak?" Optimus asked, looking at Bumblebee.

"Yes, Optimus, that's Sam."

"He's a _Prime_?!" Blaster asked, shocked. "But he's…well, he's so Sam!"

"He's good for these younglings and these younglings are good for him," Bumblebee said warningly. "Now drop it."

"Bee? What's wrong with him being Sam?" Seaspray asked.

"Nothing, Spray. Absolutely nothing." When the younglings looked away, Bumblebee glared fiercely at Optimus and the others. He drew his hand across his throat, telling them clearly to shut up.

"Ready to head back home?" Silverstorm asked, coming up.

"Of course," Bumblebee said, giving the signal to move out.

The younglings began putting their weapons away. Silverstorm felt Optimus' sharp optics on him. He knew in his spark that Optimus now knew who he was.

"Hey, Bee. I'm going with the Aerialbots."

"Okay."

As Silverstorm walked to the Aerialbots, who were all at their customary distance from everybody else. They smiled at him as Ironhide tapped on Bumblebee's shoulder.

"How is he going to do that?"

Bumblebee gestured at the Prime and to their disbelief, wings came up from hidden compartments in his back and he took off into the air. Optimus' optics were wide.

"A _flying Prime?!_ " he asked. "That's…no, that's not possible. How did that happen?"

"Primus let him pick an alt mode. He picked a jet. Primus had to replace his entire protoform to make it work, but now he's a flier," Bumblebee explained. "Now let's get back."


	12. Optimus

Silverstorm and the Aerialbots flew around for a while, talking happily. Well, the Aerialbots were talking happily. Silverstorm was morose and silent. They noticed and Silverbolt pressed a hand to his shoulder.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Slingshot made a buzzer noise. "Try again."

"Really, I'm fine."

"No you're not. Talk to us," Fireflight said, grabbing his hand.

Silverstorm sighed. "Fine. It's Optimus. He already knows it's me and he's already disappointed."

"Why would he be disappointed?"

"Because I'm not somebody else. He doesn't want me to be a Prime. He doesn't think I'm good enough."

"He doesn't? He told you this?" Silverbolt asked.

"Well…not exactly. But he doesn't have to."

"You're making assumptions," Air Raid said, arching his optic ridges.

"Yeah. Slingshot used to think Silverbolt hated him, but they talked and now everything's fine," Skydive said cheerfully.

"Just talk to him. I think you'll be surprised," Silverbolt said with a smile.

"I…guess," he said then sighed and pressed his comm. link. "Hey Pipes. Get the medbay ready. We're heading back."

They flew fast and were soon home. Everybody looked up at them, including Optimus. Silverstorm sighed. This was going to be humiliating.

"Now remember to slow down this time," Slingshot said. "You land first."

"Crash, you mean," Silverstorm said dryly.

He came down and sure enough, he had miscalculated things again. His wings automatically went back in as he tumbled head over heels smack into a building. His legs were up the side of the building with his head and his back on the ground. Ironhide and Ratchet, who were the nearest bots, sprinted for him and helped him up.

"Dear Primus, that was bad!" Ironhide gasped.

"Actually that was one of my better landings," Silverstorm said, popping his neck joint.

Ratchet was moving his hands across the surface of the Prime's armor. Silverstorm swatted his hands as Pipes walked up.

"Wings fine?" he asked.

"Yes. They just know at this point to hide," Silverstorm said with a laugh.

Pipes smiled. "Very well. Come on."

He followed Pipes a short way, then he heard Ratchet say, "Man, that or else really works. He's nothing like Optimus."

He stopped. "Pipes I'm fine," he said, feeling irritated. Pipes spun and gave him a look that both Ratchet and First Aid had. "Is that look universal for medics?" he asked.

"What look?" Pipes asked.

"That one. The 'obey me or else' look."

"Do you want me to get Bumblebee?"

"I'm _fine_!" Silverstorm emphasized.

"Come on Sam," Bumblebee said, crossing his arms; he stood a short way away and had been listening the whole time, meaning Pipes didn't have to go and get him.

Silverstreak sighed and started to follow Pipes, who nodded. Rebellion welled up in him and he made a break for it. There was a blur of yellow and Bumblebee grabbed his arms, spinning him around and throwing him on the ground. The yellow youngling pinned the Prime's wrists. Now it was true that Silverstorm was bigger than Bumblebee, and quite a bit stronger. But it was the principal of the thing.

"Sam," Bumblebee said, arching an optic ridge. "Go with Pipes."

"But I'm _fine_ , Bee."

"Oh, fine. Like the time you got hit by a wave of shrapnel and didn't tell anybody?"

"Or the time you were hit so hard your fuel tank cracked and was slowly leaking into your intakes?" Pipes asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Or the time the wires to your vocalizer was cut and the sparks started superheating one of your vents?" Blurr said quickly.

"Or the time—" Hound started, but Silverstorm slammed the back of his head on the ground.

"Okay, okay, fine!" he shouted. "I'll go."

"Bumblebee, if you would escort him to the medbay," Pipes said, sounding triumphant.

The yellow mech helped Silverstorm up and, looping his arm around his boy's, they began walking to the medbay.

"Nope. I was wrong. He's just like Optimus," Ratchet said to Ironhide.

Silverstorm felt a smile spread across his face. Even though this area was not a good one to be like Optimus in, just hearing himself equaled to the great Prime made him happy.

He was fine, just like he'd said, save for a dent that was quickly pounded out. He was released from the 'prison' and joined the younglings as they played music for Blaster. He listened, smiling as Blaster clapped joyfully.

"That was absolutely solid!" he exclaimed. "You messed up on a couple things, but it was still wonderful."

"Thanks," Mirage said as he and Hound put away the instruments. "We're just doing what Silverstorm taught us."

Blaster noticed the Prime and walked over. " _You_ taught them all that?"

"I taught them what you taught me."

Blaster held up his fist. "Awesome."

Silverstorm bumped it. Mirage and Hound were interested.

"Why did you do that?"

"It's just something you do on Earth when you're happy or excited."

The two younglings immediately turned and did it. They laughed.

"Neat. You have to take us there someday."

Silverstorm smiled, but it was guarded. "Maybe."

The two younglings smiled and hurried off to work on a building when Blurr waved them over. Blaster turned to Silverstorm.

"So…Prime eh?"

"Yep. Prime," Silverstorm sighed, pressing his hands up to where his temples were supposed to be if he were human. "And even though I enjoy my younglings, I can see why Optimus sighs so much. Sometimes I just want to…Well, let's just say it's harder than you think."

Blaster looked at him. "You kinda sounded like Optimus when you said that. You know, world weary."

"Did I?" Silverstorm asked.

"Yeah."

There was a scream, a sound so full of abject terror that it made Silverstorm's energon freeze. He and Blaster sprinted for the sound. There was a crowd gathered around something on the ground near the building that was under construction. The young Prime shoved past everybody and froze, horrified. Mirage was on the ground, energon pooling around him. His optics were dim and he looked…broken. Ratchet and Pipes were let through and even they stopped, gaping for a moment.

As they assessed the damage, Silverstorm looked around. Ultra Magnus was by the ropes that kept his younglings safe as they scaled the heights of the buildings. Rage filled him, but he calmly walked over to the blue and white mech. Everybody watched him.

"I will ask you this only once, Magnus," he said evenly. "What happened?"

"You didn't listen, that's what happened! I told you to stop cleaning up the buildings three months ago! This is your fault!"

"That," he said coldly. "Was the wrong answer." He turned to look at Red Alert. "What happened?"

"Magnus was yelling at the ones on the building. When they didn't come down, he pulled on Raj's rope. It jerked him back off the building and Magnus dropped the other end. The whole system came undone and Raj…R-Raj fell."

"I see. Magnus, let me tell you something," Silverstorm said coldly, turning to face the mech again. "You are the biggest child I have ever met. If you don't get your way, you lash out. This time, you've severely damaged a mech. A youngling. All these years you've been 'protecting' these younglings by oppressing them and forcing them into a life of fear. You're power hungry. You're malicious. You're selfish. You don't deserve to be called an Autobot."

"You have no right to tell me that! You're not a Prime!" Ultra Magnus said angrily.

There was a bright flash of light into the sky and Ancient appeared. Silverstorm read it then turned to Bumblebee.

"Bee, please escort Ultra Magnus to the temple. Primus wishes to have a word with him."

"Oh, now you talk to Primus, too?"

"And Bee? You have my permission to use as much force as you need."

Bumblebee looked at Mirage then up at Ultra Magnus, jolting his gun out and pointing it directly at his head.

"Start walking."

"Why you little—!" he started, but stopped when Optimus put a hand on his shoulder.

"Magnus, go. Now."

"Yes Prime," he said, looking frightened at the deadly tone in his leader's voice.

Silverstorm watched them walk off then knelt down next to his downed SIC. "Is he even alive?" Why was his voice so steady?

"He's got a spark pulse, but it's weak," Pipes said, voice shaking.

"Is there any way we can save him?"

"There's a device I could use to stabilize his spark. But…I don't have one," Ratchet said sadly.

"Take him to the medbay."

The crowd followed, but Silverstorm stayed staring at them energon on the ground. He felt hollow. Silverbolt walked over to him.

"Silverstorm…" he said then paused. "I know where you can get one of those spark stabilizers."

"Where?"

"Don't be mad, but the Aerialbots have been scouting for Shockwave. He's moved to a compound about a hundred miles from here. He has at least five of them. He used to use them on us all the time."

Silverstorm stared at them. "Thank you."

The Aerialbot nodded then walked away. There was silence for about a minute.

"So when are we going?"

Silverstorm turned to see Optimus. "What?"

"Well you're obviously going to go get it, and I'm not letting you go alone. When do we leave?"

"Now."

Optimus nodded and they walked in the direction that Silverbolt had pointed to. They were silent for a while.

"It would be faster if you were a flier," Silverstorm said softly.

"You're as big as me, and I bet just as strong. You could carry me."

They decided to try and Optimus was right. Silverstorm easily carried him through the air. They spotted the compound and Silverstorm landed, ahem, crashed a little way away. He brought his weapons out, Optimus doing the same.

"Ready?" the elder Prime asked.

"For Mirage," Silverstorm hissed.

They stormed the base, killing Decepticon after Decepticon. Both of them noticed how natural it felt to fight together. They checked every room and finally came to a lab. Optimus snapped his fingers and pointed at what looked like an empty box that was see through.

"That's what we're here for."

They took three of them, Optimus subspacing two and Silverstorm the other one. They were hurrying toward the door when a voice spoke.

"Both Primes in one room. How delightful."

"Shockwave," Silverstorm growled. "We were just leaving."

"This is a rather stupid move for you, Optimus," Megatron said, lazily stroking the barrel of his gun. "Why break into Shockwave's compound? And where are the rest of your Autobots?"

"We were just looking for something," Optimus replied tersely.

"What did you take?" Shockwave demanded. "Something's missing."

The two Autobots didn't answer. Shockwave seemed to be cataloguing everything mentally, looking around slowly.

"Stabilizers. You took some stabilizers. Somebody dying on you?" No answer. "Well, I need those, so I guess I'll just have to rip them out of your corpse's subspaces."

Silverstorm dodged as a sword was thrust at him, then spun with his own blades sparking. Optimus and Megatron faced off, circling each other for a minute before lunging together. Silverstorm fought hard, but Shockwave was horribly at home in this place, pulling weapons from hidden places. The younger Prime noticed a needle with a purple substance in it. That was what the purple mech had used to drug both him and Optimus. He kicked Shockwave hard then snatched the needle up and plunged it into Shockwave's neck. He drained half the liquid into the mech, whose movements immediately started to slow, then whistled and tossed it to Optimus, who managed to get the rest into Megatron's throat. The two Primes panted then looked at each other and ran. An alarm suddenly went off and they ran faster.

Sheathing his swords as they ran outside, Silverstorm grabbed Optimus and took off into the air. He was just celebrating how easy that had been when gunfire reached his audio receptors. He looked back then swore as he saw about ten Decepticons fliers on his tail. Optimus looked up at him.

"Throw me in the air then transform. I'll shoot at them from on top of your jet form."

Silverstorm spun, tossing Optimus at an angle, then transformed quickly, righting himself in time for the elder Prime to land on top of him. Optimus magnetized his feet and began shooting at the incoming Decepticons. He had hit five of them when something slammed into him and he fell hard, putting a large dent in Silverstorm's wing. The younger Prime yowled as his vision blurred. Optimus screamed something at him and his sensors screamed at him that there was a very large object in front of him. He got his sight back just in time to see a huge wall of looming glass.

"Frag!" he yelped, trying to miss it, but there was no way he was going to.

The super thick Cybertronian glass shattered as he hit it at top speed. The impact slowed him to a stop almost instantly, and he and Optimus skidded across the floor. Silverstorm transformed after the older Prime leaped off of him, wings going into their compartment. Optimus had his gun poised as the fliers landed just inside what had been a window.

"Newbie can't fly right!" one of them laughed.

Silverstorm pulled his swords out, electrifying them. Within three minutes all five of the remaining fliers were dead. The younger Prime let out a moan, sinking to his knees. Now that the battle was over, he felt the aches from the crash. That was simple soreness, but the dent in his wing was causing him a lot more pain. Optimus knelt next to him.

"Let me see it. I know how to fix it."

Silverstorm was immediately wary. Optimus was not a flier. He had no wings. He would never, ever understand the pain caused by the dent in his wing. But…he was Optimus. Silverstorm released his wings and Optimus gave a low whistle.

"I'm sorry," he said as he placed one hand on either side of the dent.

Optimus began gently manipulating the metal back into place. Silverstorm kept silent, fighting off the nauseating ripples of pain that came from his wing. A thought occurred to him and he looked over at the elder Prime.

"Optimus?" He got a soft hum in response. "Why did you come with me?"

"You're my friend, Silverstorm. I knew I wouldn't be able to talk you out of it, so I came with you."

"To make sure I wasn't captured or killed?" Silverstorm asked bitterly.

"Well, there's that, too." There was a pause. "Did I make you angry?"

"No. Why?"

"You sound upset."

"Oh, it's, um, nothing."

"Are you going to refuse to talk to me again?"

Silverstorm considered the hurt in Optimus' voice. Well, Silverbolt had told him to talk…

"It's just that I know you don't approve of me being a Prime," he muttered, looking at his hands.

Optimus' hands stopped. "What? What makes you say that?"

"All the times you got on to me, the way you just would stare at me, upset. You don't think I'm good enough to be a Prime."

Optimus knelt down and lifted Silverstorm's face up so he could look in his optics.

"Silverstorm, _I'm_ not good enough to be a Prime. I make mistakes. I screw up. But I keep going. I should have seen the potential in you. You have that magic combination that all the Primes seem to have, but that by itself doesn't guarantee you'll live the perfect life and do everything exactly right. You're a good pick for a Prime, and I can see how much you've learned since you became one. You're getting better. I'm getting better. And now we can learn from each other. Okay?"

Silverstorm smiled and nodded. Optimus returned to his work on the flier's wing. By the time it was its proper shape again, they were both exhausted. They pressed together for warmth and drifted into recharge.


	13. Connection

_"Hello."_

_Optimus and Silverstorm looked at each other then over to Primus._

_"Where are we?" Optimus asked._

_"Probably a dream world. The Primes do that when they want to speak to me, so why not Primus, too?"_

_"Alright then, why are we here?"_

_"I can't speak to my Primes?"_

_Optimus didn't answer, looking at him with pink optics. He looked uncomfortable talking to Primus. The other Prime had no such qualms._

_"What's up?" Silverstorm asked._

_"Take out your sparks."_

_They did so. Primus grabbed them and pulled away from the two mechs._

_"I'm about to do what Shockwave did to the Aerialbots, minus the physical combing factor. This is going to feel strange."_

_He brought the two sparks together and a wave of pain slammed into both of the Primes. They were blinded by a flash of light and suddenly everything amplified times two. The sparks suddenly separated and slammed back into their respective owner's chest. Optimus and Silverstorm flew backward and then…darkness._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Silverstorm came online to hear a voice in his head.

_"I had better get him up soon."_

He sat up, gripping his helm. Optimus shot up beside him.

_"Primus?"_

Optimus stiffened. _"Silverstorm?"_

 _"Wait a second, is that_ you _Optimus?_

 _"Yes."_ There was a pause. _"This is weird."_

_"So this is what Primus meant."_

_"Can we talk out loud now? This is disconcerting."_

"Sure."

Optimus blew out a breath. "So you understand why we just had a mental conversation?"

"Yes, but…I promised Fireflight I wouldn't tell anybody what he told me. Not even you."

"I can respect that. Now, let's get these stabilizers to Ratchet. Mirage really needs them."

Silverstorm stood and stretched. "Do you want me to carry you, or do you want to ride on my jet form?"

"Carry me. I don't want to damage your wing again."

"Oh, you were being shot at by Decepticons. There's almost no chance of you doing that when we're not under attack."

"Still don't want to risk it."

"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug.

Silverstorm jumped into the air and flew to the window, hovering a few feet above the floor. He grabbed Optimus and dove down. They went straight back and Silverstorm managed a pretty decent landing, his feet hitting down first. Then he skipped once, and came to rest sitting down. He stood and shook himself off.

"That was pretty good," Optimus said; he'd been set down gently on a first pass.

"Best one yet," Silverstorm said, beaming happily.

They hurried into camp and Ironhide stopped them.

"Sweet Primus above! What happened to you two?"

"Nothing too serious," Optimus said. "Where are the medics?"

"Tending to that youngling."

"His designation is Mirage," Silverstorm said harshly.

"Mirage then."

"Come on Optimus," the younger Prime said, tugging on the elder's arm.

"Excuse us, Ironhide."

Optimus and Silverstorm began walking to the medbay. Silverstorm was thinking on Ironhide's exclamation. He looked Optimus over and was surprised. He was dented everywhere.

_"Slag."_

Optimus turned to him. _"What?"_

_"You look terrible."_

_"So do you."_

Silverstorm looked down at himself, shuttering his optics in surprise. He was covered in dings and dents just as badly as Optimus. He looked up at said mech.

_"Ratchet and Pipes are going to kill us."_

Optimus laughed softly. "Worse. They're going to lecture us. Ironhide will, too, once he finds out what happened."

"I don't care as long as Mirage is okay."

Ratchet and Pipes were leaving the medbay. They looked up and their jaws dropped.

"What the frag happened to you?!" Ratchet cried out.

Optimus and Silverstorm pulled out the stabilizers.

"Here," the younger Prime said. "This is what you need, right?"

Ratchet grabbed the stabilizers. "We are not done. You _will_ explain where and how you got these."

He and Pipes raced back into the medbay. Optimus sighed heavily.

"I'm tired," he said.

"Me, too."

"Where can I rest?"

"The younglings made me my own room. We can split the berth. It's huge."

"Lead the way."

They were soon in his room, lying side by side. They didn't talk, falling into recharge fast. Silverstorm awoke to a touch to his chest. He onlined blearily to see Pipes staring at him.

"Are you okay, Prime?"

"I'm just tired Pipes. What do you want?"

"Mirage is awake. He's really in pain. We're still fixing his body."

Silverstorm got up, careful not to wake Optimus, and hurried to the medbay. He slowly approached Mirage. The injured mech's optics were dim, but they brightened slightly when they saw Silverstorm.

"It hurts, Prime," he whimpered then soft whines came from his vocalizer.

"I know, sweetling, I know," he cooed, stroking his head tenderly.

"Ultra Magnus left just before you got there. He apologized quite profusely. He looked a little scared, and kept glancing over his shoulder."

"Where?"

Mirage slowly, painstakingly raised his arm and pointed to the corner by the door. Silverstorm looked back. Primus stood there, nodding at him then placed a finger to his lips. The Prime nodded ever so slightly and turned back to Mirage, shrugging.

"Rest, 'Raj. You'll be alright."

"Sit with me awhile? Please?"

Silverstreak nodded, walking over to the other berth. "Forgive me if I fall into recharge. I've had a rather trying day."

Mirage raised himself up slightly, staring at him. "Ratchet told me you and Optimus have been recharging for two days."

Silverstorm shuttered his optics. "No we haven't. It couldn't be more than a few hours since we laid down."

Silverstorm checked his chronometer. Mirage was right. They had been recharging for a few hours over a two days. He still felt tired. What was wrong with him? He suddenly was frightened. Ratchet and Pipes walked through the door.

"Hey, how are you?" Ratchet asked Mirage.

"Something's wrong with me," Silverstorm blurted out.

Pipes was immediately by his side. "What do you mean?"

"I'm exhausted. I just recharged for two days. I don't understand."

Pipes frowned. "What did you two do?"

"We, uh, stormed Shockwave's compound."

"You _what_?!" Ratchet gasped. "Why?"

"We had to get the stabilizers. I wasn't going to let 'Raj die," Silverstorm said fiercely.

"Did anything happen, injury wise?"

"Not really. We got away with nothing but dents."

"That doesn't make sense," Pipes said. "These things don't just happen for no reason. Nothing else happened? No big impact?"

"We hit a really thick window flying full speed," Silverstorm said. "It shattered and we landed inside."

"Something probably jarred loose in your processor," Ratchet said. "I'll go get Optimus and we'll look at them."

Optimus looked a little dazed as he walked in. He took a seat next to Silverstorm, glancing at him.

"I don't feel well," he admitted.

"I don't either."

Ratchet and Pipes began running tests and scans on them. Three hours later, they were getting nowhere.

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with your processors," Ratchet said. "But why do you two keep rubbing your chests?"

An idea hit Silverstorm, and he grabbed Pipes' arm. "Call in Silverbolt."

"Silverbolt? Why?"

"Trust me. I think he'll know what's going on."

Silverbolt and his Aerialbots soon stood in front of him.

"Ratchet, Pipes, leave."

"What? I don't think so," Ratchet growled.

"That, Ratchet, is an order," Silverstorm said softly, staring directly at him.

"But—" the medic gasped, but Pipes grabbed his hand.

"C'mon Ratchet."

They walked out.

"You sent them out. Why?" Silverbolt asked, glancing at Optimus then Mirage, who was sound asleep.

"Primus combined our sparks."

All of the Aerialbots looked surprised. "Really?" Fireflight asked.

"Yes. I want to ask you something, but I need your permission." He pointedly looked at Optimus then to Fireflight.

"Oh. That's up to all of us," Fireflight said softly. "Not just me."

"I'm asking all of you."

The Aerialbots suddenly got this blank look on their faces and Silverstorm waited. Optimus looked concerned.

"Are they alright?"

"Give them a minute."

They waited until their faces came back to life.

"We've discussed it. Optimus must swear as you did that he won't tell anybody."

"Depends on what it is," Optimus said with a yawn.

"What Shockwave did to us," Slingshot said, narrowing his optics. "Now swear."

"Alright. Whatever you tell me will be in the strictest of confidence, unless a medic is needed."

"Well, that's fair enough," Air Raid said with a nod to Skydive.

Silverbolt took a deep breath and carefully explained what Shockwave had done to them. When he was done, Optimus looked interested.

"So when he combined your sparks, were you fatigued?"

"Yes. For days. You'll be sluggish for a while. I suggest nice relaxing rest combined with lots of medium grade energon."

"Tell the medics that. If they ask why, say you're under orders not to tell them."

"Wing massages don't hurt either," Fireflight said, winking at them as the Aerialbots turned to leave.

Optimus and Silverstorm watched them go then yawned at the same time. Ratchet and Pipes hurried in and proceeded to question them on what the Aerialbots had said. Optimus ended the questioning with a sharp, short word.

"Enough."

Ratchet and Pipes froze.

"But as your medic, I must insist on knowing—"

"No."

"Leave it alone, Ratchet," Pipes said softly. "They obviously trust that the Aerialbots know what they're doing, and I trust that their trust is not misplaced."

"Oh…very well."

They gave the two Primes mid-grade energon, watching to make sure they consumed it, then sent them back to Silverstorm's room.

"I'm glad we know what's wrong," Optimus said as they settled down to rest.

"Yeah. You know, it's worth it, I think, having you know about the Aerialbots. They're so different from the others, and having you understand them a little bit, too, will certainly help."

"Well, have a nice rest, Silverstorm."

"You, too."


	14. Honored

Mirage steadily got stronger, and was soon walking around. With two devoted medics fixing and guiding him in his recovery, it was swift. Silverstorm and Optimus slept a lot. The medics were getting antsy about that and Ratchet grabbed his Prime one day.

"You're sure you're okay?"

"I'm sure," the red and blue Prime said gently. "I trust the Aerialbots."

"You know I mean no offense, Optimus, but why?"

"I trust Silverstorm, and he trusts them."

"You can't tell us anything about how they know you're fine?"

"No. You and Pipes will probably learn about it eventually, because you're medics, but until then I shall say no more on the subject."

Ratchet frowned, but nodded. "Very well, Prime. I respect you having to keep this secret. But I hope you get better soon."

And they did. They were soon their old selves, save a closeness that only the Aerialbots could identify with. Mirage was soon walking around, and Optimus complimented Silverstorm on his choice for a second-in-command. The two Primes stood watching their mechs interact. Optimus cleared his throat.

"Sam?"

"Hey now," Silverstorm teased. "Only Bumblebee can call me that anymore! What's up, Optimus?"

"I just had to tell you how proud I am of you, and I wanted you to know down to your old self. You've made such remarkable progress. I've seen you grow up. I've seen you mature. From that teenaged human boy to a true Prime. I am honored to hold that title with you."

"Aw, c'mon, it's not that big a deal," Silverstorm muttered, his optics turning slightly pink.

"It is. I feel so honored to have witnessed your journey. Ironhide and Ratchet saw the majority of mine, and now I know how privileged they feel. I was just as rough material as you were. But you pulled through and are now the most beautiful gem that I have ever had the chance to behold."

Silverstorm's optics were completely purple now. "Thanks, Optimus. I've wanted _needed_ to hear that for so long. It's an honor to serve beside you. With you. We have many years ahead of us. We're going to need each other. We're going to need them, too."

Optimus smiled and put a hand on his equal's shoulder. "Spoken like a true Prime."

Silverstorm was positive that nothing would ever make him feel as good as that comment did. The two Primes met each other's gazes for a brief moment then went down to join their soldiers.


End file.
